The Best Laid Plans
by boidwriter
Summary: Daniel and Betty are engaged and planning a wedding...with help, of course - a little more help than they bargained for.  Written for a challenge at B&B.
1. Chapter 1

**Countdown: 8 Months **

"MARC!"

Marc heard the faint echo of his name through the tunnel and pictured Wilhelmina standing, hands on her desk, leaning over it as she bellowed. It's not as if he should be able to hear her – he wasn't her assistant anymore and his desk was down the tube in a completely different area, behind a glass door. But years of working for her had made his hearing extra perceptive – partly because he was terrified of making her holler twice and partly because good hearing was an asset when it came to eaves dropping. This call was a frustrated, upset one. The average person might not have been able to tell, but Marc could. Of course I didn't take a genius to figure that out…most of her bellows were when she was frustrated and upset…or angry. But the angry ones were lower pitched.

He immediately got up and ran to her office.

"Yes Willie?" He said as he bypassed her new assistant and poked his head in the door.

"Marc…please tell me that the rumours I've been hearing about Captain Nobody and his perky little minion are unfounded and false."

"Which Captain Nobody and minion would that be?" Marc asked although he guessed he could figure it out.

"Daniel and Betty." Wilhelmina hissed. "I just got off the phone with a reporter wanting to confirm that they are indeed…engaged?" She looked shocked and a little confused.

"Mmm-hmm." He was aware of it because Justin had called so excited last night and spilled the news to both him and Amanda.

"You knew, and you didn't tell me?" She was getting angry.

Marc entered her office and walked over to her desk.

"Willie, I didn't want to bother you with trite, meaningless information…you have enough important stuff to worry about."

"I do. But this isn't trite and meaningless."

"It's not?" Marc didn't understand. Willie wasn't sentimental at the best of times; surely she wasn't going to be about this.

"No, of course not. Like it or not, Daniel is still the face of Meade…at least the youngish one that doesn't look like it just crawled out of its crypt. And therefore - according to the press – at least partly, the face of Mode." She spit the last part out with much distaste.

"O…K…?" Marc still didn't understand.

"A wedding means fashion Marc. Everyone knows that. Fashion Television will be all over this godforsaken event like cheap leather on a dime-store dominatrix."

Marc made a disgusted face at the image that produced.

"And they'll be tying Mode to it." She finished.

"Mmm-hmm?" Marc still didn't get it.

"Don't be so thick, you idiot - Betty is the bride."

"Oooohhh." Marc pursed his lips as it registered.

"I know she doesn't always get it disastrously wrong anymore, but she's still Betty…it's a complete crap shoot. And anything she picks will be a direct reflection on Mode."

"You're absolutely right Willie, I never thought of that. Ugh…I can picture the bright pink frilly taffeta bridesmaids' gowns as we speak."

"Combined with god-awful paisley ties and cummerbunds…probably in clashing colours." Wilhelmina sighed.

"But Willie…Daniel is the groom, and his taste – at least in clothing – isn't half bad."

"True. But he's pathetic when he's in love – like a dog trying to please its master. He'll let her do anything she wants." Her tone was of definite frustration.

Marc nodded. "So…what can we do?"

Wilhelmina sat back down in her chair. "We need to run interference… a wedding planner or something."

"Pffft…Betty's so independent she'd probably never go for that." Marc said as he sat down in the chair on the opposite side of her desk.

"No…but she's sickeningly loyal and she might want to make a friend happy…a stylist friend…by letting her help." Wilhelmina suddenly sat up straighter and if he wasn't mistaken there was a hint of happy on her face but it was always so hard to tell.

"But…I thought we weren't doing any more scheming." Marc was looking for any excuse to circumvent this new ploy that she'd apparently just hatched.

"This isn't a scheme, Marc…it's a plan to avert a fashion disaster and save Mode's reputation. The Meades should be thanking me."

"Oh…" Marc was still not thrilled about this idea. "You know…Betty will probably want to do her own thing…and Amanda might be too busy."

"Marc! You and Amanda have wormed your way into some sort of… understanding…with Betty. Surely you can have some influence on both of them."

Marc practically begged. "Willie, please don't make me—"

"What is it? Why are you so opposed to this idea?"

He sighed. "A hetero wedding, pu-lease. And Betty's no less. If Amanda's working on it she'll be talking about it non-stop - probably asking my opinions even. I'll have to spend all my evenings thinking about it and the unholy union of…those two." He cringed.

"I don't want you to leave this in Amanda's hands…it's far too important."

He gasped. "What are you saying Willie?" He was fearful – this was starting to sound even worse than he originally suspected.

"I'm saying that Amanda will be the decoy, the fashion figurehead, in this ploy. But you need to approve all the fashion choices to make sure Mode doesn't end up looking utterly ridiculous."

"Willie…" It was a definite whine.

"Oh for heaven's sake Marc…be a man and take one for the team."

Marc went back to his desk in a considerably darker mood than he was originally in. He was commissioned now to talk to Amanda and suggest she offer to help Betty with the wedding planning and the fashion choices.

That evening he went home and moped on the couch simultaneously eating a pizza he'd picked up on the way and some candy bars he'd stolen from Amanda's stash in her underwear drawer. He didn't usually like to go in there but desperate times called for desperate measures…and these were desperate times.

As soon as Amanda walked into the apartment she knew something was wrong.

"Oh my God Marc…who died?"

"Huh…what?" Marc looked up from the television in a fat and sugar induced half-coma and realized Amanda was home.

"I asked who died. You're eating like a lonely girl again. Are those my candy bars?"

"I am a lonely girl Amanda…alone in my pathetic misery." Marc said, avoiding her question. "Willie wants me to convince you to help Betty plan her wedding, at least the fashion choices for it."

Amanda's face lit up - she was obviously excited.

"That would be amazing…I should totally ask Betty if she wants my help." She gasped as she thought of something. "The budget…can you imagine the money I could be working with. What a great idea!"

Marc nodded sadly and Amanda walked over to the fridge to grab a drink.

"But what's wrong with you? And why would Wilhelmina care if I helped plan Betty's wedding or not?" She asked as she slammed the fridge shut with her hip.

Marc proceeded to tell her about Wilhelmina's concerns for the wedding and Mode.

"I still don't get why you're so upset though." Amanda said.

"Willie wants me to oversee the entire thing…to approve all the fashion choices and make sure that ultimately Mode ends up coming out of it without looking bad. That means I'll have to live and breathe this event for the next several months."

Amanda nodded sympathetically.

* * *

Later that same evening Amanda and Marc were connected with Betty on Skype.

"Hey Betty." Amanda said into the computer.

"Hi Amanda, hi Marc. What's up?" Betty asked.

"Congratulations! I hear Daniel proposed." Amanda said.

Betty smiled sweetly and nodded.

"So he's finally marrying the cow, huh?" Marc added.

Amanda elbowed Marc as a subtle reminder to try and be nice.

"The expression is "buying the cow". It's a metaphor." Betty reminded him with slight annoyance.

"I know what the expression is." Marc said dryly.

"Let me see the rock." Amanda said.

Betty held her ring up to the camera.

"Oooo….icy. That looks like the one that sank the Hindenburg."

"The Titanic, Amanda…the Hindenburg blew up." Marc corrected her.

"I think you better recheck your facts Mr. Smarty Pantaloons." Amanda said smugly. "Why would a ship blow up because it hit an iceberg?" She looked at Betty and rolled her eyes shaking her head like Marc was crazy.

"So when's the big day?" She asked Betty, getting back on topic.

"Well we haven't really gotten specific but probably sometime in the fall."

"Oh, I get it…a shotgun wedding. I thought your breasts were looking fuller." Amanda commented sensually.

"Amanda…I'm not pregnant. If I was pregnant, then getting married in the fall would mean I'd be walking down the aisle in labour." Betty looked down at her breasts; she was a little freaked out that Amanda was noticing them at all.

"Riiiiight." Amanda nodded conspiratorially and winked. "Don't worry…I won't tell Uncle Papi."

"So you haven't started planning yet then?" Marc asked.

"No…of course not. We haven't even set a date."

"Well…when you do, have I got someone that can help you..." Marc's eyes were bright.

"Way to play it cool, Marc." Amanda said to him.

"What?" Betty didn't understand.

"Betty, Amanda would totally love to help you plan the wedding." Marc said.

"Really? You would?" Betty asked, moved by the offer; she clutched her hand over her heart and a big smile spread across her face.

"Totally Betty. It would be amazing - using Daniel's money to plan the soiree of the decade and feed those poor relatives of yours for the first time in their lives. I'll be like Mother Theresa or Oprah or something."

"Amanda, my relatives are not—" Betty was starting to correct her but Marc interrupted.

"So can Amanda help you?" He asked.

"Uh…I guess—"

"Great!" He said, not letting her finish her sentence.

* * *

At first, Marc's plan was to let Amanda handle most of the wedding stuff. He would give everything the proverbial rubber stamp once it was arranged. That way he'd fulfill his responsibilities to Mode and Wilhelmina with minimal pain. But Wilhelmina's words kept haunting him for days…"anything she picks will be a direct reflection on Mode". Willie was right. And who was the newest…and only…Fashion Editor at Mode? He was. Everything that Betty picked for her wedding - at least in the area of fashion - would be linked back to **him**. Oh my Gucci…he was going to be directly linked to this nightmare. Sure, Amanda usually had fashion sense so she'd be able to avert the worst disasters. But then again, there was that time when she wanted to be a design team with that big tree, Helen…Holy Wang those designs were questionable. And Amanda and Betty had been cozy lately - Amanda rarely even made fun of her on purpose anymore. She would probably…ugh…_compromise_…quality fashion choices in order to let Betty feel like she was contributing a little. Well, that would not do – not on his watch; there would be absolutely no fashion compromises.


	2. Chapter 2

**Countdown: 7 ½ Months**

Daniel and Betty had selected a date for mid October to get married in New York. They'd booked a unique location just across the Queensboro Bridge from Manhattan, right along the river. It was 19th Century building converted to a reception venue with a ton of character. Betty fell in love with the pictures she saw on the internet so she sent Hilda and Justin to check it out and it got enthusiastic approval from both.

Daniel had suggested they hire a planner but Betty didn't want someone they didn't know doing all the planning, it seemed kind of impersonal. She said they should be able to handle it with Amanda's help. She was pretty sure Justin and Hilda would help when she needed them to as well.

Booking the date and the venue kicked her into the spirit and only a few days later she was connected with Amanda to try and come up with the colours.

"Red and White Betty? What are you, Cupid?" Marc asked. "Those colours are so predictable and tacky."

"I like red." Betty defended.

"I look fantastic in red." Amanda argued on Betty's behalf.

"Come on ladies, let's get original." Marc begged.

"Well…how about purple then? I really like purple." Betty suggested.

"Bold Betty…like…socks with heels bold." Marc made a face.

Betty sighed. "I also like blue - a really nice shade of blue somewhat brighter than navy but not a powder blue."

"Oh my God…you're also not a Smurf." Marc added in exasperation.

"Fine…what do you suggest then?" Betty was getting frustrated.

"Grey is the new black." Marc said.

"Grey? It's just kind of…boring." Betty shrugged.

"Just because it doesn't involve patterns that induce seizures and colours that cause migraines does not make it boring." Marc argued.

"It might work." Amanda looked thoughtful. "Picture it Betty: grey with silver and brushed silver decorations. It could look really elegant."

Marc nodded smugly.

Betty shrugged but she still wasn't convinced. A wedding with no colour – and grey didn't really seem like a colour - seemed a little drab.

"Why are you so interested in all this stuff anyway?" She asked Marc suspiciously. "Amanda's the one who is supposed to be helping me."

"You know me, Betty - whatever I can do to prevent any fashion crimes." Marc answered with nonchalance. "You should be thankful that I'm helping…at least you'll avoid being humiliated."

"That's just it…usually you revel in my humiliation." Betty reminded him.

"I do. And I would with this as well if it only involved you, but Amanda and Justin are caught up in this freak show and my heart hurts for them." Marc answered.

She wasn't convinced it was the entire truth but it sounded believable so she didn't push.

"I'll think about the grey." She said.

* * *

**Countdown: 7 Months**

"I thought maybe Christina might have some ideas." Betty suggested.

Amanda, Marc and Betty were discussing the bridesmaids' dresses over the computer.

"Are you kidding? Ms. Glasgow? Everything will be tartan and wool with tams for accessories." Marc said.

"Christina is a fabulous designer. I want to find out what she thinks." Betty insisted.

"Marc…Christina does sometimes have some pretty great ideas. Let's see what she comes up." Amanda was trying to keep the peace.

"Whatever." Marc was not impressed - apparently Amanda was going to start compromising already.

Christina and Betty unanimously decided that Christina's time would be better spent designing Betty's wedding dress. Ultimately that's what Betty really wanted anyway. She did throw together a basic design for the dress but Marc had a fairly strong opinion.

"Oh my God…did she design that in her sleep or just fall asleep designing it." He said when he saw the sketch.

"It's nice Marc. Simple lines…flattering to whoever wears it." Amanda defended.

"It's boring. Amanda the bridesmaids' dresses will be one of the main focuses of this fashion circus. They have to be cutting edge…original - something to make them stand out, especially if Betty goes with grey."

"So what do you suggest?" Amanda asked.

"I know the perfect designer here in New York." Marc said. "Edgy, smart, raw, completely original."

"How are you going to convince Betty to use a New York designer when she probably loves Christina's design?"

"Don't you worry about that Amanda – leave that to me. I know exactly how to handle little Miss Sunshine."

* * *

"I don't know, Marc…Christina made a perfectly nice design for the bridesmaids' dresses." Betty seemed unsure.

"She's a young up-and-comer, Betty. Just like Melissa Newman…remember?"

"Marisa Rowan." Betty corrected him.

"Whatever." Marc waved dismissively before adding with lots of feigned enthusiasm, "Think of how it will impact her career having her design in the Meade wedding. You could be changing a life!"

She was still a little hesitant.

"Oh come on Betty…the poor thing is from an immigrant family just trying to make a start of it here in the big city. Where is your heart?" Marc was pulling out all the stops.

Betty sighed. "Fine Marc. See what she comes up with."

Marc refused to feel guilty - he did not lie. Her family was an immigrant family…immigrating from Jersey. That was almost like a different country from New York.


	3. Chapter 3

**Countdown: 6 Months**

Betty wandered in to Daniel's bedroom where Daniel had disappeared to as soon as she connected on Skype with Marc and Amanda. What was he doing anyway - hiding out probably. He knew they were talking about the wedding and he always seemed to disappear lately whenever the planning came up.

She was not in a particularly good mood after being online with those two. Amanda was ok, but Marc was bossy and opinionated and always made her feel self-conscious about everything. Not that that was new…she'd grown pretty accustomed to it over the past several years but lately it kind of felt like he was taking over the wedding.

He'd made some comments tonight about the shoes she was going to wear too. Amanda had commented about how they were as flat as Kate Hudson – which was true – and then Marc said they'd just emphasize her cankles. She didn't have cankles…did she? She looked down at her legs.

Worse though, was how he said she'd look like Daniel's daughter because she'd be so short without heels.

"What's wrong?" He asked her as he came out of the walk-in closet.

He looked like he'd been tidying. Was that more interesting and important than planning the wedding? Maybe he wasn't that interested in all the details but she really could have used him for backup when Marc started getting insulting.

"What did Marc do now?" He asked.

"Daniel…do you think I will be too short if I don't wear heels the day of the wedding?"

She looked up at him vulnerably; she was insecure about it and she couldn't stand that. Her height was one of those things she'd come to accept years ago and it never really bothered her. But lately Marc's comments were getting to her.

He sighed and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. "I hate that he can do that to you." He said seriously.

"What?" Betty didn't understand.

"Make you doubt how amazing you are." He brushed her hair back from her face.

She forced a slight smile.

"He's not so perfect himself, you know. What's with the stripy clown pants he wears sometimes?"

Betty smiled sincerely that time and Daniel continued. "And sometimes his hair is so high, I swear he should be stuck on the end of someone's pencil."

Betty burst out laughing so sharply and abruptly that she put her hand up to her mouth. "Oh my gosh…like a troll doll." She laughed again.

"Betty…I don't care what you wear – heels, flats, platform shoes…just as long as I get to marry you. Why is Marc so involved anyway? I thought Amanda was helping."

"I think the better question is why aren't **you**?" Betty asked him directly.

"Uh…" He didn't have a good excuse.

She looked at him silently, her eyes wide with anticipation the way she did when she was waiting for an answer from him and he didn't have one to give…or at least not one she wanted to hear.

"Well…?" She finally asked again.

"I helped pick a date…and the location."

"The date was picked, in part, because it was the only time the location was available." She reminded him.

"Alright, you got me. I guess I should probably help more."

She raised her eyebrows. "More? You haven't been helping at all. In fact whenever the topic comes up, you bolt."

He suddenly became very serious and he took both of her hands in his.

I'm sorry I haven't been very supportive with all this stuff. It's just not really my thing."

She nodded but wasn't smiling.

"You're just so capable with all this stuff I didn't think you needed any help." He added.

"You really think I'm going to buy that?" She asked looking up at him.

"It sounded convincing in my head." He grinned. "Ok…from now on, I'll help."

He pulled her into a warm embrace and she sighed. She didn't want to be so concerned but she couldn't shake the feeling that Daniel was avoiding the wedding planning for some reason…and not just because it wasn't "his thing".


	4. Chapter 4

**Countdown: 5 Months and 3 weeks.**

Betty had done some very basic research on flowers for the wedding – she'd searched on-line and made a few phone calls. She'd expected they wouldn't be cheap but the actual cost had astounded her. After the first call she thought she'd just picked the wrong florist…after the forth, she realized that she was a little out of touch. She Skyped Justin and Hilda so she could complain about it. She also wanted to show them the two different designs for the bridesmaids' dresses. She hated the one from the New York designer, but Marc loved it and she needed some other opinions.

"Oh my..." Justin looked a little disturbed.

"What the hell is that?" Hilda asked.

Betty had just sent them, via email, a sketch of the bridesmaids' dress.

"Ok…I thought it was just me, but it is awful, isn't it?" Betty was trying to confirm.

"Hideous." Justin said.

"See…and you know fashion." Betty said to Justin.

"What's with that thing on the arm?" Hilda asked.

Betty shrugged.

"And that hat? That's something you would wear." Justin added.

"Hey!" Betty was offended and then she looked closer at the sketch – would she?

"Ok…so hold on for a second and I'll send you the design Christina whipped together quickly before she started designing my dress."

She searched her folders and found the scanned copy and then she sent it to Hilda and Justin.

"So what do you think of Christina's?" Betty asked once they'd had a chance to look.

Justin nodded thoughtfully. "Pretty nice."

"Oooo…that's gorgeous. I really like that." Hilda said.

"Me too." Betty agreed. "But Marc insists that the weird one is nicer. I just don't get it."

"So, who cares what Marc thinks? This is your wedding Betty – pick the one you want, at least in this case, when Marc is clearly wrong." Hilda encouraged her. "Besides, if you pick the one with that thing on the arm, I'm not wearing it. So you can just find yourself a new Maid of Honour."

"Hilda…" Betty scolded her.

"What? This…" She waggled her finger back and forth, pointing to herself. "was never created to wear something like **that**." She pointed to the screen. "Look at that neck line…if it was any higher you'd need an elevator to put on your lipstick. Clothes should show off your assets…if you know what I mean."

"Aww Mom, please…do you really have to talk about your assets?" Justin cringed.

"Shut it Justin." She raised the same pointy finger to him and then she turned back to Betty and pointed to her own head. "And hair like this should never be crammed under a helmet like that."

"Aunt Betty, you know I really respect Marc. I think his choice of grey for the wedding colour was inspired and I would normally never - in a hundred million years - take Mom's fashion advice over his…but believe it or not, I'm with Mom on this one. Well…not the part about the assets…maybe a little about the hair though. Anyway, you know what I mean."

Betty smiled at him. "Yeah…you're right. Thanks guys."

She changed the subject because now she felt like venting about the flowers.

"I can't believe how much they want to charge for flowers for this thing." Betty sighed.

"Why do you think we went with Bobby's cousin's wife's sister even though she was out in Jersey? It was a pain in everyone's butt – particularly his uncle and cousin - to have to go and get them and cart them across the city the morning of the wedding but at least she gave us a significant discount. But what are you complaining about? The money's not an issue for you guys."

"No, I guess not."

"What do you mean you guess not? You're marrying a freakin' billionaire. The cost of the flowers is like a drop in the bucket for him."

"Just because Daniel has the money and I could spend it on the flowers doesn't mean I should, Hilda. I don't want to be **that** woman."

"What are you talking about, Betty? What woman?" Hilda was clearly confused.

"You know…the woman that just goes and spend her husband's – or in this case fiancé's - money without any regard to how much things cost. I want to contribute to this marriage and I just find it so frustrating that I don't, really."

"Face it Chica…you will never be able to contribute financially to this marriage the way Daniel does. But that doesn't mean you don't contribute significantly in other ways."

Betty sighed. "I know…but I hate feeling like **that** woman."

"Oh my God…you must be adopted 'cause I could totally be **that** woman. In fact, I could be that other woman…the leeching sister-in-law of the billionaire who's always looking for ways to spend his money and get some of the perks."

"Hilda…" Betty started to smile.

Hilda was deadly serious. "You think I'm kidding?"

"Why don't you just talk to Daniel, A.B.? Get his input on how much to spend on the flowers." Justin wisely suggested.

"Yeah…I will."

The next day when they met over lunch, Betty decided to do that…and show him the two different designs. They met in a small restaurant halfway between his work and hers.

"So what do you think?" She asked him, showing him the sketches.

"I think I'm hungry." He grinned.

"Seriously, Daniel…I want your opinion."

"Ok…" He sighed as he lowered his menu. "Well, the funky one looks like it should be on a runway during fashion week…maybe not in our wedding. But I'll leave that up to you." He picked his menu up again.

"And the flowers..." She started to say, pulling the menu down so he could see her.

"Betty…whatever you want. Really…I don't care." He smiled at her.

"But they are quite expensive and I think we should talk about it."

"Why? It's just money. Get whatever flowers you want and stop worrying about it." He looked back down at the menu again. "Now…about lunch…"

Betty looked at him with a mixture of frustration and disbelief but he was so consumed with the menu he didn't notice. Again with the disinterest - what happened to helping? She tried not to let it get to her…what straight guy really cared about the flowers for his wedding anyway, right? Except for maybe the financial factor…and clearly with Daniel that wasn't an issue.

* * *

**Countdown: 5 Months and 2 weeks**

"But we were supposed to go select the invitations after grabbing a bite to eat." Betty said into her cell phone as she packed up her laptop at the end of a long day.

"I know. I'm sorry Betty. I really have to stay late. We have this account we're working on and they are expecting something huge by the end of the week." Daniel sounded apologetic.

She was disappointed but she could hardly blame him for working late – she did it all the time. It's just that this wasn't even the first time he was blowing off going to select the invitations – he'd done it a few days ago too. Not that he was blowing it off, she reminded herself - he was just really busy.

She tried to be more positive. "Ok…well, how about we go select the invitations on the weekend then?" She suggested.

"That sounds great." Daniel said. "Thanks Betty. I appreciate you understanding."

"Yeah…sure." She sighed again.

Later that night as she was getting ready for bed her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey Betty." It was Amanda

"Hi Amanda…what's up?" Betty asked.

"Not much. How goes all the wedding organizing from your end?"

Betty sighed, remembering her conversation with Daniel from earlier. "Fine."

"Really…'cause that sigh made it sound a lot more like **not** fine." Amanda was sometimes amazingly observant for someone rarely concerned about other people.

"No…it's fine." Betty tried to be convincing.

"Yeah, right Betty." Amanda didn't believe her. "What's got your perk bent out of shape?"

"It's Daniel. We were supposed to go pick the invitations tonight but he had to work late."

"So he blew you off again…huh? Didn't he do that the other day too?" She asked.

He didn't "blow me off". He's working on an important account." Betty defended.

"Daniel blew Betty off?" She heard Marc ask from the background.

"Tell him Daniel didn't blow me off." Betty said, hearing her voice go into a sort of hollow, tinny sound as she finished the sentence; she suspected she was now on speaker phone.

Amanda filled Marc in on the part he hadn't heard. "Daniel said he had to work late."

"Oh…he totally blew you off, Suarez." Marc said and he sounded clearer now so she knew she was on speaker phone. ""I have to work late" is the oldest excuse in the book."

"And whose book is that Marc? How are you an expert on relationships all of a sudden?" Betty wanted to know.

"No need to get defensive Betty. Maybe I'm not an expert on relationships but I am an expert on blowing people off."

Betty couldn't really argue with that.

"Well, whatever. If Daniel says he has a lot of work then I believe him. Why would he lie about that?" Betty asked.

"Maybe because he doesn't want to get the invitations for some reason?" Amanda suggested questioningly.

"Of course he doesn't want to get the invitations." Marc interjected. "Once the invitations are ordered, that's like having it in stone."

"What are you talking about Marc?" Betty didn't like where this was going.

"Betty, it's a lot harder to back out once you've invited all your family and friends." Marc said bluntly.

"He doesn't want to back out Marc." Betty tried to sound confident but inside she was reeling.

"Maybe not. But think about it: It's pretty hard to picture Daniel Meade being a one woman man for the rest of his life."

"He married Molly, didn't he?" Betty pointed out.

"Yes…but the woman was dying. As much as he loved her, let's be realistic - there wasn't much long term commitment happening there."

"Marc! That's a horrible thing to say." Betty was appalled.

"Oh, don't give me that…tell me that thought hasn't once crossed your mind. And before Molly, the man was a complete horn dog. Sure, what he had with Molly might have changed that, and he might not be able to fall into bed with every Mary, Jane and Kate that he meets anymore. But there's a big difference between giving up your man-hoar ways and accepting that the person you're with now is the last one you're ever going to be with again…**ever**. Is it so hard to believe that he might be having some serious doubts as he stares monogamy in the face - the rather unfortunate, Betty-shaped face he's stuck with?"

"Harsh Marc. Don't listen to him Betty - your face doesn't look anything like monogamy, or any kind of wood for that matter." Her tone became much sweeter. "Maybe you should just talk to him…be honest about it, you know?"

"Yeah." Betty agreed outwardly but inside she was far too upset to think about having that conversation. "I have to go."

She was trying to stave off the emotion that was brewing. It was bad enough dealing with her own doubts and insecurities about how Daniel was feeling about the wedding – it was ten times worse hearing it aloud from Marc. Part of her wanted to shrug off Marc's comments as ridiculous – she couldn't imagine ever wanting to be with anyone else and she expected that Daniel felt the same way. You don't propose unless you feel that way, right? But he'd been so distant and completely standoffish when it came to planning the wedding and that had to mean something.

* * *

Daniel felt like dirt as he climbed into bed that night. He hated that he'd told Betty he had to work late. It's not that it wasn't true - it just wasn't the whole truth. He did have to help come up with something huge for a client by the end of the week and the team was staying a little late. He'd just exaggerated how late so he didn't have to go shopping for the invitations. He knew that giving another excuse wouldn't work though; on Saturday he definitely had to go…and whatever it took he was going to be in a good mood about it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Countdown: 5 Months and 1 Week**

Betty was feeling more confident in her relationship with Daniel after the weekend. He had finally agreed to go shopping for the invitations and he even seemed fairly into it. He had some strong opinions about the ones he liked and the ones he didn't and even stronger opinions about how they should be worded.

Before they had gone out she had been planning and rehearsing in her head how she could broach the topic of his aloofness regarding the wedding without sounding too needy or too much like she was nagging. She was fairly certain it was a discussion that was warranted. But after the day on Saturday she had completely changed her mind.

After ordering the invitations he'd taken her out for a nice meal and then they had a romantic walk along the Thames. He'd been so affectionate, sweet and attentive that it had melted any doubts she'd had completely away. They didn't talk about the wedding much that evening but they spoke a lot about their future together and he didn't seem even remotely distant. In fact he was enthusiastic and boyish in his excitement about it.

So Tuesday evening, when they were over at his place and she suggested they look over the menu options available at the reception hall and start narrowing that down, and he came up with a pathetic excuse that his internet was down she started to worry again. Of course it could be true…she needed to trust him.

About an hour later they were sitting on the sofa talking about something fairly random when it reminded him of a clip he'd seen on YouTube. He jumped up excitedly.

"You gotta see this…it's hilarious." He ran over to the computer and opened his search engine.

Betty was stunned. Sometimes he really was a moron. Did he forget he'd told her less than an hour ago that his internet was down?

"I thought your internet was down." She said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the accusation out of her tone.

He looked up quickly, the guilt he wore whenever she busted him for something was all over his face. This time she knew she needed to have the conversation.

"Daniel…what's going on?" She asked bluntly.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You know what I mean…with the wedding. Every time I suggest we do some planning together you come up with an excuse."

"That's not true. We went out on the weekend and ordered the invitations, remember?" He retorted.

"Yeah…after several excuses before that, and you knew you wouldn't reasonably be able to give me any more." She said.

"That's not fair. I had to work…I told you that. You work a lot too." He was getting miffed she could tell.

"You're right…I'm sorry. It's just…it seems like you want to do everything except plan the wedding."

"Don't be ridiculous Betty. I just don't want to be forced to do everything right now." His tone was harsh.

"Forced?" She felt sick. "Is that what it feels like to you…that I'm forcing you? 'Cause I think you were the one that actually proposed, if I remember correctly. I would hate for you to feel like this whole thing was being **forced** on you."

She knew she was being extremely defensive but she couldn't help it. She stood up from the couch. She couldn't believe where this conversation was heading. In all the rehearsals in her head she'd remained calm and unemotional but now that she was in the midst of it, that seemed impossible. Her tears were on the brink of release and she wasn't sure if they were tears of anger, hurt or fear – probably a little of all three, not that it mattered.

"Don't do that. Don't twist my words." Daniel was obviously angry too.

"I don't think I have to. Your actions are speaking volumes all on their own." She said as she walked to the door of his townhouse and grabbed her spring jacket off of the hook by the door.

"Betty, where are you going? It's late." He asked with concern as he got up and walked over to the door himself.

"I'm going home. I'll hail a cab outside." She said as she opened the door.

"No…you won't." He was firm. "You know you won't be able to hail a cab in this neighbourhood. You'll have to walk for blocks before you find a cab and I'm not going to let you do that."

"Then I'll walk to the underground and take that." She insisted. "But I'm not staying here."

She started out the door, convinced she was going, but he gently grabbed her hand.

"Hey…please don't go." His tone had become much softer and full of anxiety.

She looked up into his eyes and saw confusion and regret. She wished she could tell if it was regret over this fight or over the fact he'd proposed to her at all. The idea it might be the second one was more than she could handle and she couldn't hold the emotion back any longer. She'd barely been holding the tears back as it was – waiting only until she was out of his sight before she let them flow. She hated how weak it made her seem to cry when they fought and she would be absolutely appalled if he ever thought she turned them on to be manipulative.

But with him standing there with the concern on his face and the regret she couldn't interpret in his eyes, she couldn't stop and the tears fell.

"Betty…don't..." He looked like she felt.

He pulled her into a hug and closed the door. She broke down sobbing, angry at him and even angrier at herself that she was a pathetic mess in front of him.

"I want to go home." She said into his chest as forcefully as she could between sobs but not pulling away.

"We need to talk about this." He insisted. "Remember? It's your idea. We need to fight these urges to run away when we get angry with each other."

She pulled back and looked at him defiantly. "I said that if we wanted to make sure this relationship was going to work we need to do that. I'm not sure that's the case anymore." There was still a lot of rage in her tone.

He looked hurt. "You don't want this to work?"

He let go and took a step back.

"I'm not sure **you** want this to work." She corrected him.

"Why would you say that? Of course I do." He sounded confused.

"Daniel, you're acting like getting married is the last thing on earth you want to do." The anger was slowly fading but there was still a lot of hurt. She wiped the tears off of face.

He sighed, walked over to the couch and sat down. Betty stood still, unsure whether she should follow him or not. There was - what seemed like - a few minutes of silence while Betty stood awkwardly near the door and Daniel sat on the couch. What was he doing…collecting his thoughts? Trying to figure out how to tell her he didn't want to get married?

Finally she couldn't handle the silence any longer. "Daniel, if you don't want to get married…just tell me." Her voice was steady even though she felt far from that inside. She needed to know the truth before they both made a huge mistake.

* * *

Daniel wondered if there was any worse feeling on earth than this. She honestly thought he didn't want to marry her…how did this happen? He hadn't meant for her to doubt him…to doubt how he felt just because he was avoiding the wedding plans.

"God Betty…I hate that you think that." He rubbed the back of his neck but his shame kept him from looking up at her.

She walked over to the sofa and sat down beside him. He looked at her now, her face mottled from crying, her glasses spotted from the salt of her tears, lingering tears wetting her cheek bones.

"What's going on then, Daniel? Why do you cringe every time I bring up the wedding? Are you thinking we're rushing into this? Are you regretting that you asked me?"

"No…no absolutely not Betty. You have to believe me when I tell you that there is nothing on earth I want more than to be married to you."

"Then what's going on?" She asked.

"I want to be married, I just don't want to get married." He explained.

She looked extremely confused. He didn't want to elaborate more than that. That would mean getting into that discussion he'd been avoiding for months – the reason he'd been dodging the wedding plans in the first place.

Planning the wedding reminded him of his other wedding. And he didn't want to think about that…not now; not when he was on the threshold of this exciting new life with Betty. Thinking about Molly filled him with a bunch of confusing, conflicting, weird emotions, and he'd already worked through all that crap…at least he thought he had, until he proposed to Betty and they started planning their own wedding.

But instead of telling Betty how he was feeling – because that felt like a really bad idea – he had just avoided the wedding planning altogether and distracted himself with something else whenever possible.

Clearly that was a mistake because now she doubted the sincerity of his feelings so much that she wondered if he regretted asking her to marry him. Time to fess up even if it meant wading into that sludge pool of messed up emotion.

"I don't want to get married…or actually, more accurately…I don't want to plan a wedding." Daniel sighed.

She still looked confused but at least the anger and hurt seemed to be dissipating.

"Why?"

"Because…" He paused - it was hard to say this crap out loud.

Betty must have seen the anguish or something on his face because all of a sudden something like realization started to cross hers.

"Oh…" She said. "I get it. We **are** rushing this aren't we?" The tears started resurfacing again in her eyes and Daniel realized that whatever she was assuming was not correct.

"Betty, I think you're thinking—"

"No…I get it Daniel. It really hasn't been that long since…Molly. I guess you weren't ready to do this. I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured into asking me to marry you." She took a deep breath, something he only recently started recognizing as her attempt to contain a sob.

Pressured into asking her to marry him…where did she get that? He was always the one just a little ahead in this relationship.

"Betty stop. That's not what I was going to say?"

"It's not?"

"No. I mean it does have to do with Molly but not in the way you're thinking." He paused for a second. "Planning our wedding makes me think of my wedding with Molly and I don't want to think about that."

She nodded like she was trying to understand.

"But not because I'm not ready to marry you, or to move on. I just don't want to think about that…and her…when I should be thinking about us and our future. It just feels wrong." He confessed.

"Betty, I love you so much…in a way I've never felt with anyone before. You are such an amazing person with a big heart that has such a capacity to love…and forgive. And you have this phenomenal spirit that never lets anyone or anything keep you down for long. I want to spend every minute with you and have a family with you, and grow old with you…please believe me."

"Why does it feel wrong?" She asked him still confused.

"What?" He was thinking of the last part of his statement and her question didn't make sense.

"You said it felt wrong to think about Molly when you should be thinking about us. Why does it feel wrong?"

"Because…I don't know. Thinking about her makes me feel…guilty, I guess."

"Oh." She paused for a minute before speaking and she looked like she was processing everything. "You feel guilty because you're moving on and you're afraid you'll forget her? Or because you think I'll be upset because you're thinking about her?" She still seemed quite confused and she was trying to clarify it.

"A little of both, I guess."

"Daniel…marrying me won't make you forget Molly. I wouldn't want it to. The love you had for her will always be a part of you…that's a good thing. It helped make you who you are today. I think it's normal for you to think about her more, the closer our wedding date gets."

"You do?" He thought that was a bizarre statement.

"Yeah. You shared this special, sacred moment with her and now you're going to be doing it again with me…it's only natural that you think about her. You shouldn't feel guilty about that. And you certainly shouldn't worry about it upsetting me."

"But that's the strange thing about it. I did share this with Molly but it felt completely different. God Betty… I went into that marriage knowing Molly wouldn't be with me more than a couple of months. I didn't think about it that way at the time…I just wanted to be with her in that moment. It turned out I didn't even get that much time with her."

He took a deep breath - it was really hard to say the next part but it was essentially the main reason he'd been having such a difficult time planning his wedding with Betty. If he was this deep in the sludge already he might as well keep going.

" 'Til death do us part – that's an incredibly intense commitment when you still have your whole lives ahead of you…and not quite so much when one of you doesn't."

He felt almost ashamed admitting it but Betty nodded like she understood and took his hand.

"Being with you and getting ready to make that commitment to you – planning the wedding - makes me realize that I didn't have a clue back then about the seriousness of that vow…or of that whole commitment really. In some ways I feel like I rushed into that impulsively, without any real thought to what those vows meant. And even as I say that…admitting it out loud…it makes me feel disloyal to Molly."

Betty looked up at him thoughtfully. "Daniel, you loved Molly, and she knew that. You married her because you knew your time together was limited and it felt like the right thing to do….but what you need to remember is that she did the same."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Molly didn't have any illusions about your marriage and how long it would last, anymore than you did. Maybe you wouldn't have rushed into marriage so soon if she hadn't been sick…but likely she wouldn't have either. The fact is…she was sick…there really is no point wondering what either of you would have done if things had been different.

"And there is absolutely no point comparing your feelings now to what they were back then…or feeling guilty about them. You are different now, the circumstances are different, our relationship is different…everything is different. It doesn't mean you didn't love Molly and it doesn't change what you had with her…and it certainly doesn't make you disloyal."

There was a long silence while Daniel processed all of that. For some reason it never occurred to him that Molly's reasons for accepting his proposal were probably the same as his for giving it – so that they could fulfill this last dream of hers before she died, and they could spend her last days together. Of course, Betty was right…Molly wouldn't have been thinking about their future anymore than he was. In fact, Molly was more acutely aware of the situation and less in denial than he was at the time. Their marriage had been far less about lifelong commitment and far more about living in the moment…**for both of them**. A type of peace slowly warmed him as that realization sunk in.

And Betty was right about something else too: what he had with her was completely different than what he had with Molly because with Betty, it was all about the future, their lives together and some day having a family.

Betty finally broke the silence. "Why couldn't you just tell me this was how you were feeling?"

He looked up into her eyes. He could tell she was still hurt.

"I'm sorry Betty. I guess I was afraid… of admitting all of this stuff out loud…and of hurting you."

"Yeah? Well, I guess that was a good plan…'cause thinking you regretted proposing didn't hurt at all." She said sarcastically but it wasn't biting and Daniel could see that she was trying to smile a little.

He gently placed his hand on the side of her face.

"Man…I am such an idiot. Why did you say yes?"

"You'll have to give me a few minutes while I try to remember." She teased with a smile that time, leaning into his hand.

"Ok…so I know most of this was probably my fault and I'm not pushing the blame here or anything…but why would you doubt how I feel about you, Betty? Was it just because I was ducking out of the wedding plans?"

She averted his eyes and looked down at her feet so he dropped his hand. "Not completely. That was part of it, but I guess it was also because of something Marc said."

"Marc? **You** are listening to Marc now? Isn't that akin to listening to the little devil sitting on your left shoulder instead of the little angel sitting on your right?" He asked.

"Well, in hindsight…it does kind of seem that way." She admitted regretfully.

"What did Marc say anyway?" Daniel had to know.

"He said you were probably avoiding the wedding plans because you were getting cold feet…about the monogamy and all."

Daniel looked at her, a very serious expression on his face. "Betty, I know my past is destined to haunt me a little, but I thought you knew me better than that. I never, ever want to be with anyone else; I only ever want to be with you. I wouldn't have proposed if that wasn't true."

"Yeah." Betty sighed. "You see, the little angel was telling me that but the little devil was louder."

"How about we flick him off then?" Daniel smiled.

Betty smiled too and then she sighed again. "I hate when we fight."

"Me too." Daniel agreed. "There is one good thing about it though…making up." He put his hand on the side of her head again.

"Oh gosh, yes. I love making up with you." She smiled coyly and there was a definite spark in her eyes.

He leaned in closer and whispered softly. "I hope you can stay over because I'm pretty sure making up after this one will go pretty late."

"Hmm." She pretended to think. "I'm actually thinking it might take all night."

"All night, huh? No pressure there. I am up for a challenge though." He smirked and then he kissed her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Countdown: 4 Months**

"What do you mean "Daniel picked the tuxedos"?" Marc asked.

"I mean…the tux place had a website and he went online, narrowed it down to a few choices and then selected the style he liked the best. I don't really think it's a difficult concept to understand, Marc." Betty said into her phone as she cradled it on her shoulder while she chopped the vegetables for her dinner.

"Oh my God…rentals! What kind of an influence are you?" Marc was appalled. "Betty…the man is a Meade and you have him wearing a tux that thousands of other people have worn? A couple of phone calls and I'd have at least three different designers begging to make him the tuxes for his wedding."

"Really Marc…thousands of other people? That's a bit of an exaggeration. It's a waste of time, money and material to have tuxedos made that the guys are never going to wear again – especially since they all pretty much look the same anyway."

Marc gasped in horror and made a high pitch squeak at the same time. "Look the same? And so what if he never wears it again? See…that's exactly the influence I'm talking about. Next you'll have him buying his socks and underwear at Marks and Spencer."

"There's nothing wrong with Marks and Sp—" She started to respond.

Marc interrupted with an exasperated scoff. "Ack…he already does, doesn't he?"

"I don't know where he buys his socks and underwear Marc." She was getting annoyed.

"Tell him to call me about the tuxedos." Marc insisted.

"Why?" Betty asked. "Are you officially our wedding planner now, because I don't remember getting that memo?"

"Don't be snide Suarez." Marc warned.

"Marc…Daniel is perfectly capable of selecting the tuxedo he wants for his own wedding…without you interfering."

"Pu-lease Betty. The man's taste is questionable, at best. Remember that whole ascot fiasco?"

"That was your idea." Betty reminded him.

"What about that repulsive fuzz he wore on his face for months?" He asked. "And don't even get me started discussing his choice of bride for this horror show."

"Marc…" Betty was starting to have enough.

"Just tell him to call me." He said again.

"I don't think—" She started to say.

"Tell…him…to…call…me." Every word was clipped and over pronounced, and then he hung up before she could get another word in.

She stared at the phone in her hand for a minute debating whether or not she actually would tell Daniel. Who did Marc think he was anyway? That alone made her call Daniel…just so she could vent.

"So I just spoke to Marc." She said as soon as he answered.

She tucked the phone back between her chin and shoulder and started chopping again…aggressively.

"That's a surprise." Daniel said sarcastically. "You've spoken to him more since we've been engaged then you did in the four years you worked together at Mode."

"He's a melodramatic, whining, control freak." She said and then she made a frustrated growl sound.

Daniel started to laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" She asked him slightly annoyed, pausing from her chopping for half a second.

"Sorry." He stopped laughing.

"He said he wants you to call him." Betty figured she might as well tell Daniel and let him decide whether or not to call.

"Why?" Daniel asked suspiciously.

"Because I told him you chose the tuxedos and I guess he wants to talk to you about it." Betty explained.

"But I don't want to talk to him about it." Daniel started to whine.

"So then don't call him. But don't be surprised if he stalks you for the next couple of weeks until you do. Oh…and if you do talk to him…I kind of let him think you're renting them…so just go with that."

Daniel laughed. "What?"

"Well…he's just so annoying and I couldn't handle it anymore." Betty replied.

"Can I ask you something? Why are we letting Marc dictate everything about this wedding?" Daniel asked.

"You know…I don't know." She admitted.

"So why don't we put a stop to it?"

"I don't know the answer to that either." Betty sighed.

* * *

**Countdown: 3 Months, 3 weeks**

"Christina, he's driving me ballistic." Betty complained to Christina on the phone one day while she was at work on her lunch break.

Marc had emailed her – apparently Daniel was still avoiding him – and Betty guessed the tux rental thing was stressing him out. Was it bad that part of her was happy about that?

"I know he means well…but he's at least partly clinically insane and I don't think I can take it anymore."

"Betty…is this Marc St. James we're talking about?" Christina asked.

"Yes, of course." Betty was confused – Christina knew she was talking about Marc.

"**The** Marc St. James who has been Wilhelmina's lackey for four years?" She clarified.

"Yes…"

"The same Marc who constantly made your life a living hell at Mode since the day you started. The one who schemed with Wilhelmina to take over Mode and Meade?

"Uh…yes, I suppose…he has mellowed a little. What are you getting at?"

"Betty, the man would sell his own child to gypsies if he thought it would get him a discount on the latest pair of Jimmy Choos."

Betty thought about that for a minute before replying. "Well…maybe not his own child…you know, because of the cost of adoption and the principle of fighting for the rights of gay men to..."

"Betty…" Christina interrupted gently, pulling her back to the point.

"Oh, right….sorry. So what are you saying Christina?"

"I'm saying, I doubt very much that Marc "means well". I don't think he's doing this out of the kindness of his heart. I'll bet there's something in it for him. And I can't explain how or why, but instinct tells me that she-devil Wilhelmina is behind this somehow."

"What could Marc and Wilhelmina possibly get out of my wedding to Daniel?" Betty didn't understand.

"I don't know, luv…but I'd watch my back if I were you because it sounds like they're up to something.


	7. Chapter 7

**Countdown: 3 Months, 2 weeks**

"No Marc. I will not ask Gisele to be a bridesmaid. I don't even know her." Betty was adamant as she spoke to him on Skype again. Could he really be serious?

"You spoke to her once…remember…when you set Daniel up on that date."

"I spoke to her publicist, for two seconds." Betty corrected him.

"If you're worried she'll say no you could offer her some kind of honorarium or something for standing up for you." Marc suggested.

"What! No Marc." Betty was appalled - he really was serious.

"Don't be stubborn Betty…you need her to balance out your wedding party a little. The groom's side is ok, but on your side…" He shuddered. "Right now the bleh factor is much much higher than the glam factor, especially when you calculate the bride into the equation. Think of the wedding pictures. So far you've got your almost middle age sister, an old Scottish hag, and Amanda. And as sparkly as she is, Amanda can't glam it up on her own."

"Marc!" She was getting annoyed and angry.

"Ok…well how about Heidi Klum, then?" Marc asked.

"Oh my God…this conversation is over."

Betty noticed Marc taking a huge puff of his inhaler right before she disconnected with him. Odd this was stressing _him_ out… although he was clearly stressing her. Marc was crazy and he was starting to drive her there too with all his "helpful" wedding advice. Why did he care so much about her wedding? Christina was right…something was definitely up.

She walked back to the bedroom where Daniel was half sitting, half lying in bed reading a book.

He looked up when she came in the room.

"What's with the frown?" He asked concerned.

He pulled the sheets back so she could climb in beside him.

"It's Marc…again." She sighed. "This wedding stuff is driving me nuts. Can you believe he wants me to ask Gisele or Heidi Klum to be a bridesmaid?"

She crawled up onto his huge king size bed and snuggled in beside him leaning against his shoulder so that they were only on one half of it.

"Since when are you friends with Gisele?" He asked her amused.

"I'm not…he wants me to pay her. He's a frickin' lunatic."

Daniel laughed.

"I'm sorry this wedding stuff is getting to you." He looked at her sweetly and then he suddenly got really serious. "Move in with me."

"You already proposed and I said yes, so I think the moving in thing is a foregone conclusion." She grinned.

"I mean now…tomorrow…or this weekend - whatever is most convenient." His eyes were sparkling a particularly excited hue of blue tonight with a boyish grin that matched.

"You're serious?" It was half statement, half question.

She wondered why he was asking this now. They'd been engaged for four months already and he hadn't mentioned it before. She just assumed that he thought the same thing she did – that they might as well wait until after the wedding.

He nodded.

She smiled sweetly. "Tempting, but I think I want to wait."

Apparently he wasn't expecting that because his face dropped and he looked stricken.

"Wait for what?" He asked.

"Until we get married." She thought that was obvious.

"Why?"

"It'll be better." She shrugged.

"Not moving in with me would be better than moving in with me. Is that what you are saying?" He didn't seem angry…perplexed maybe, and she sensed a little teasing tone.

"That's not exactly what I said. What I said was that moving in together after we're married would be better." She corrected him.

"I'd like some elaboration on that please." He put his book on the nightstand and put his head on the pillow turning on his side to look at her.

"I just think if we move in together now, the wedding will seem anticlimactic."

"The wedding? The big shindig we're spending tens of thousands of dollars on will be anticlimactic?"

"Yes." She snuggled down under the covers with her head on the pillow so she they were face to face and she put her hand on his chest. "The everyday stuff - spending our lives together; waking up together every morning; sharing every insignificant detail of our day; officially changing my address; finding room for all of my stuff; creating a morning routine that works for both of us – that's the really good part, right?" She was sure she must be beaming because she was on the inside, as she thought about it.

He smiled, obviously a little charmed by her comments.

"Ok…maybe. But why were you willing to move in with Matt then?"

"I wasn't marrying Matt." She reminded him.

"Yeah…and…?"

"Well, there wasn't any wedding to be anticlimactic." It seemed straightforward to her.

"So if there wasn't any wedding, then you'd move in with me?" He was trying to stifle a smile.

She didn't really know how to answer that because clearly he was just trying to make her reasoning seem ridiculous.

He continued. "So the fact that I proposed is being held against me…and you not moving in is my punishment. That seems reasonable." He grinned smugly and rolled onto his back.

"Ok…that just makes it sound stupid." She said.

"I don't think it's my argument that makes it sound stupid." He teased and she shoved his shoulder. "And need I remind you that you're practically living with me anyway. Here it is Wednesday night and you're staying over."

"You want me to go home?" She asked teasing him now.

"Not the point. You stay a lot anyway…let's just make it official." He argued.

"We are making it official - in four months, remember? And I don't stay more than two or three times a week."

"You have a toothbrush here." He argued again.

"If that was a criterion for living somewhere, then I was living in my desk at Mode." She said.

"You had a toothbrush in your desk?" Daniel sounded surprised.

"Of course I did."

"Did it never occur to you to use it after you ate those funky onion bagels?" He grinned.

She smacked him that time.

She continued her argument. "The wedding is just a big party – a one time thing and then it's done. If we've already done all the other stuff the wedding would just seem…not quite so significant. And I want our wedding to be more than just a party or a formalization of something we're already doing anyway. I want to remember it as a starting point."

His expression softened significantly and he looked more than just charmed that time. She knew she'd convinced him but she also knew he'd never admit it because he was going to enjoy giving her a hard time about this for the next four months.

"I also think that its fun to anticipate it…you know…while we wait for the wedding." She added smiling sweetly.

"Fun? Really?" He responded with his eyebrows raised. He turned back over on his side. "I think you need to revise your definition of the word "fun" Betty…and I think I can help with that." He smirked, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her close.


	8. Chapter 8

**Countdown: 14 Weeks **

Daniel was growing increasingly suspicious with Marc's behaviour. Sure, Marc could be intense sometimes, and whatever bizarre relationship he had with Betty since they were assistants together had morphed a little over time and he didn't have quite the disdain that he had had years ago. Even still, Marc was alarmingly interested in the details of this wedding. And even if he'd somehow managed to progress to actually liking Betty a little now – which could be possible because Betty had this amazing way of winning people over - he was far too narcissistic to be expending this much energy on something that wasn't about himself. But how could their wedding have anything to do with Marc?

Late one evening, Daniel was loafing on the couch flipping between a rerun of Grey's Anatomy and an episode of Say Yes to the Dress.

There was one particular Bridezilla on the episode he was watching. She was having some sort of tantrum over one of the dresses, saying there was no way on earth she would wear something like that because people would think she had absolutely no taste. She went on about how anyone with any kind of fashion sense would know not to wear organza in the winter, that it was much better suited to a spring wedding. And then it hit him: _taste_, _fashion sense_ – this was what Marc was so concerned about. All of Marc's interest in the wedding had to do with the fashions. He hadn't had much say in the wedding dress but probably only because Christina was designing it.

And a big Meade wedding like this one was bound to garner some publicity and media attention. Suzuki St. Pierre would certainly be looking for some kind of scoop. If he didn't find it in a wayward, philandering groom (which he definitely wouldn't), or a huge health crisis, like a heart attack (let's hope not) then he'd have to settle for the fashions. And he would invariably link them back to Mode somehow. That's why Marc was so into all the wedding plans…so Mode came out looking the way he wanted it too…or rather the way **she** wanted it too. It made even more sense that Marc was only a peon in this scheme. The real architect was probably someone far more sinister…and Daniel knew exactly who that was.

The next day, Daniel unleashed his wrath…well, as much wrath as Daniel felt necessary to unleash. He was pretty angry but it's not like Wilhelmina had drowned any kittens or anything; not that she wasn't capable of it and, in fact he thought she probably had at some point - just for fun - but that was another issue…this was about the wedding.

"Wilhelmina...why would you do that to Betty? Why would you hijack the wedding? This is supposed to be one of the most important days of her life…of our lives." Daniel was irate. "She should be able to do whatever she wants. Taking over like this because you don't trust Betty's taste is cruel – she will be really hurt by this. Your manipulative interfering method of trying to cover your own ass is…well it's just…mean." He had wanted to say something a little more clever and biting but nothing ever came quick enough when he was speaking to Wilhelmina because she flustered him a little.

"Mean Daniel? I'm _mean_ because I might hurt your fiancé's feelings? Do you want to push me off the swing and throw sand in my hair too? Don't be such a child. This is business …it's not personal…it has nothing to do with feelings. Surely, even you, with your puny mind can see how this wedding will reflect on the magazine. I couldn't take a chance that next fall Mode would be endorsing peach taffeta frills."

"I don't care how this reflects on Mode. This is our wedding day and we will do things however we want. Betty will decide what colours she wants and what styles. So call off your crazy sycophant, Marc."

"Apparently love isn't just blind…it's stupid too." Wilhelmina said. "Fine. Have it your way Daniel. But I swear …if there is one butterfly belt or sequined anything that reflects back poorly on Mode, I will resign as Editor-in-Chief."

* * *

_Marc was seated several rows back in a pew. Wilhelmina was across the aisle on a pew behind him but easily within eye contact. He waited impatiently as the crowd started filling in. A part of him was relieved though - months of insanity leading up to this day and within twenty-four hours it would be all over and completely forgotten…at least by him. There was a slight feeling of euphoria when he thought of that._

_The hour approached and the church became quieter as people took their seats in anticipation of the event. The front side door opened and the groomsmen and Daniel filed in. From Marc's vantage point he could only see the tops of their heads until they positioned themselves at the front…but he heard a collective gasp from the congregation. He tried sitting up taller to see them before they got into place but to no avail. It wasn't until Daniel was actually standing in position that Marc saw what the gasp was about. The men were all wearing hideous powder blue tuxedos with enormous lapels, frilly white collars and string ties. It was like some bizarre combination of 80's retro meets Colonel Sanders. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part were the enormous butterfly belt buckles that were clearly visible because of the unbuttoned suit jackets._

_Marc felt light headed and nauseous. He didn't dare look back to Wilhelmina who almost certainly would be looking in his direction with a laser piercing death glare. Before he had anytime to process how things had gone horribly wrong the music was starting and the bridesmaids started making their appearance as they marched one by one down the aisle._

_The dresses were exactly as he'd approved including the arm accessory and the hats. But they had large bows – in the shape of butterflies – on all their backsides. Instead of the flowers they were supposed to have, they were carrying the ugliest parasols he'd ever seen – frills around the outer edge with large painted butterflies on the panels. Oh my god…could this get any worse?_

_People in front of him stood and turned around to look at the bride. The woman directly in front of him had a butterfly necklace; the woman beside her a butterfly broach. The man across the aisle at the end of the pew had butterflies on his tie with matching butterfly socks. He was surrounded…there was an overwhelming feeling of suffocation and he urgently pulled at his collar._

_He turned to see Betty walking in, what seemed like, slow motion down the aisle. Her effervescent white dress was adorned with frill after frill edged with lace. There were so many frills layered on top of one another she looked round with a tiny little head sticking out the top and arms out the sides. Not unlike the hideous toilet paper roll cover that he always used to see at Nana Weiner's house…actually, that's exactly what she looked like._

_She got to the front and right before the ceremony started, she turned to everyone and spoke. But it was Amanda's sexy voice coming from her mouth, not Betty's nasal squawk._

"_I'd like to thank my good friend Marc St. James for all the fashion ideas and inspiration."_

_No…no…no!_

Marc awoke with a start and Amanda was standing over him, shaking him.

"Marc… Marc...wake up. I heard you yelling; and you were whimpering a little like you do when we're watching Celebrity Apprentice and Donald Trump is meeting with someone you're routing for." Amanda looked concerned.

"Oh…Amanda. I just had the worse dream. It was Betty's wedding but everything was wrong. The tuxes were hideous, the bridesmaids' accessories worse than abominable and everything was accented with…butterflies." He made a hissing, hacking noise in the back of his throat.

"To top it off, Betty thanked me, publicly, for the fashion ideas. But it was weird – it was your voice coming out of her body like you'd been merged or something."

"Mmm…merged…" Amanda sounded intrigued, and then she turned her attention to Marc, who was very distressed. "Aww…" She sat down on the bed beside him and rubbed his back as he lay there. "It's ok sweetie – it was only a bad dream."

"I can't handle it Amanda. The stress of this wedding is getting to me."

Just then his phone rang and he reached over to grab it off of the nightstand – it was Wilhelmina.

"Marc…" She didn't even wait for him to say hello. "There's been a change of plans."

"What do you mean Willie?"

"The invertebrate, Daniel, is on to us and he finally grew a pair – or borrowed them from Betty – and told us to back off."

"So we're "backing off"?" Marc was confused, that did not sound like Wilhelmina at all.

"My hands are tied Marc. I don't really see what choice we have. Most of the fashion choices have been made already though, correct?"

"That's correct." Marc answered.

"Well, the worst is over then, so we just have to be in maintenance mode. Make sure she doesn't make any drastic changes and everything will be fine." Wilhelmina said.


	9. Chapter 9

**Countdown: 13 Weeks**

Daniel debated for days whether or not to tell Betty the truth about the hijacked wedding. On the one hand, he didn't want to keep things from her. They'd been really doing well with this healthy relationship stuff, apart from that little blip a few months ago when they didn't communicate very well about why he was struggling with planning the wedding. But other than that, and since then, things were great. So wasn't it kind of like lying to keep this from her? And he certainly didn't want to lie.

On the other hand, telling her the truth would probably hurt her. What did it say that the editor of a major fashion magazine hijacked your wedding because she hates your taste? And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. This was ten times worse than when Wilhelmina didn't give her a fashion show to review and he'd left that stupid phone on accidentally so she'd overheard his conversation with Wilhelmina. At least that was work related…this was personal. He was angry just thinking about it again. Shouldn't a bride be able to pick whatever colours and styles she wants without worrying about what anybody else thinks? And Betty's taste had changed over the past four years. Sure, he could admit that he was as mortified as anyone else at some of her fashion choices back when she'd started at Mode. But now…now she'd actually developed her own style. And it was colourful, cute and bold – just like her personality. Ok…there were still some questionable items in her wardrobe – like that awful old lady sweater wrap she was wearing the other day, but most of her stuff was nice and she'd even learned how to pair things together without going crazy. Daniel was positive that Betty would have been completely capable of planning a beautiful wedding…fashions and all…without Wilhelmina and Marc interfering.

In the end he decided to tell her. It wasn't too late to reclaim their wedding and do what they wanted without Wilhelmina's meddling. And keeping this from Betty would just end up coming back to bite him in the ass…he was sure of it. Was there any secret he'd been able to keep from her that didn't end up doing just that?

So one evening, when Betty was over for dinner at his place he brought it up while they were at the table.

"Betty…I need to talk to you." Daniel took a deep breath – he felt awful having to tell her this. "Wilhelmina hijacked the wedding. She was worried about what everything was going to look like so she convinced Marc and Amanda to worm their way in to "help" you choose everything."

"I know." Betty didn't sound surprised at all.

"You do?"

"Yeah…of course I do…I'm pretty astute, you know." She grinned at him.

"But…how…when?" Daniel was shocked.

"Well, I figured it out about a month ago. It didn't surprise me that Amanda wanted to be involved helping to plan, but when Marc started to flip out and said the bridesmaids would have more meat on them than the canapés, and wanted to replace Hilda and Christina with Gisele and Heidi Klum, I knew something was up. I called Amanda the next day and told her to spill or I would stop sending her those shortbread cookies she likes."

Daniel chuckled and shook his head amazed at her ingenuity although he realized he shouldn't have been, she was always pretty clever.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

She shrugged. "I figured there really wasn't much point. What could you do about it? And given your history with Wilhelmina I didn't want you to go do something stupid because you were angry."

"So you lied to me."

"I didn't lie. I just didn't see any benefit in telling you - you would just get angry. And frankly Daniel…it was more a slight to me than it was to you and I can take care of myself."

He knew that was true. He'd been told that more than once by her.

"Aren't you upset or angry?" He asked.

"I was…at first. But then I figured hijacking it was better than sabotaging it. In her defense, she was thinking of Mode's reputation." Betty explained.

He nodded agreement to that. "And her own, of course…let's not give her too much credit. But aren't you a little…offended?"

She shrugged. "I guess, a little, but I know I don't know fashion like Wilhelmina or Marc do."

"Aww, Betty…I like your fashion style." Daniel said sweetly.

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a look.

He continued. "Now - since you've toned down the patterns and colours a little."

She raised her eyebrows indicating she wasn't buying it.

"Daniel…just the other day when we left that restaurant and you were carrying the coats, you "accidentally" dropped my knit sweater wrap on the ground…in the mud…and stepped on it…remember?"

He shrugged awkwardly. "Most of the stuff you wear is nice." He defended, sheepishly.

"I can't believe you would just go along with them though, and let them have their own way. That doesn't seem like something you would do." He added.

"I just wanted to keep the peace…and make sure nothing reflected poorly on Mode – Wilhelmina did have a point about that. And **you** do still own it after all." She smiled at him. "I mean…apart from that awful bridesmaids' dress everything else is very elegant. Maybe it's not exactly my style but it will look beautiful. And all of this is just surface stuff anyway. Ten years from now when we look back at the pictures it's not going to matter that much what everyone wore or how we decorated."

"Well…I told Wilhelmina to back off, so you can do whatever you like."

"You did?" Betty was surprised.

"Yeah…so let's do what we want." He smiled. "Screw Mode…screw Wilhelmina."

"Well, I like Christina's design for the bridesmaids' dresses a lot more than that awful design by that New York designer, so I was going to get those made instead anyway. That thing on the arm and those hats – they were horrible."

Daniel sighed. "Oh thank goodness. To be honest I thought the hats were your idea."

The look she gave him made him happy he was across the table so she couldn't smack him.

"And…uh…what about the grey?" Daniel asked.

"You don't like the grey?" Betty looked at him questioningly.

"No…I mean…it's very elegant. I just kind of thought something a little brighter was more your style." He said.

"Well I did kind of want some colour." Betty said hesitantly.

"Then let's add some colour, it's not too late." He smiled.

He had an idea. "Hey…you want to get even?"

Betty looked at him suspiciously. "What are you up too?"

"I know it's not usually like you to exact revenge…but this isn't revenge…not really…just a little psychological torture." He smirked.

"Daniel…" She had a warning tone but she was smiling and her eyes were sparkling.

"Just listen to my idea first, before you shoot it down." He grinned.

* * *

**Countdown: 10 weeks**

"Did you see the look on Marc's face when I told him I was "going in a new direction" with the bridesmaids dresses." Betty grinned.

They were snuggling together on the sofa at Daniel's place after video chatting with Marc on the computer.

"Eclipsed only by the look on his face when you showed him that awful sketch you had Christina do up." Daniel chuckled.

"She was happy to do it, once I told her what it was for." Betty said.

"I'll bet…I doubt Marc and Wilhelmina are her favourite people." Daniel commented.

"You are a bad influence." She smirked. "You and your schemes to get even. Marc thinks I'm the bad influence in this relationship but clearly it's the opposite."

"Marc thinks you're a bad influence on me?" Daniel was utterly confused by that statement. How on earth would Betty be a bad influence on him?

"Yeah…something about tux rentals and buying your underwear at Marks and Spencer."

Daniel laughed and then he added somewhat disturbed "How does Marc know I buy my underwear at Marks and Spencer?" He pictured a bug or a hidden camera planted in his phone.

Betty chuckled and shook her head. "He doesn't, dork; he just thinks I'm making you a lowly fashion commoner."

"Oh…"

"How long do you think we should keep him in the dark?" Betty asked.

"I'd say until the actual wedding day." Daniel grinned mischievously.

"Daniel…that's two and a half months away." Betty looked surprised but amused at the same time. "That's a little unnecessary torture don't you think?"

"Betty, the man hijacked our wedding because he has very low opinion of your ability to make good fashion choices….you're not getting soft on me now are you?"

"No…I guess not."

"You are." Daniel could tell.

"Well…maybe a little." Betty looked apologetic. "I'm sorry."

"We have to hold out longer than a couple of hours though. You are such a softy." He grinned at her as he pulled her closer.

"It's too bad we couldn't get Wilhelmina." Betty said regretfully.

Daniel smirked slyly.

"What? Why are you smirking?" Betty asked him sitting up a little straighter so she could look at him closer.

"Actually…I did get Wilhelmina…I think." He admitted.

"What did you do?"

"Well…let's just say somebody anonymously sent Suzuki St. Pierre a sketch of the fake bridesmaids' dress with information about how Wilhelmina Slater herself was endorsing the fashions for the Meade wedding."

Betty's chin dropped and a smile broke out over her face.

"Aren't you worried about Mode?" She asked.

"Nah…Wilhelmina's paranoid about that kind of thing. And it's only a rumour right now so it's just enough to create a stir. If anything it's added publicity for the next issue. But you know what Suzuki will do with it and that's enough to piss off Wilhelmina." He was very pleased with himself.

"You are bad." She smiled.

"I am." He smirked. "So very, very bad. Are you staying over?"

"Is that all part of the same thought?" Betty asked, obviously amused.

"It could be…definitely." He grinned.

She looked at her watch. "I have an early morning meeting and I don't have anything to wear tomorrow. I should go home tonight."

He was disappointed and there was no hiding it.

"When are you moving in here?" He whined, venting his frustration.

"In two and a half months…remember?"

He groaned. "I can't convince you, can I?"

She shook her head and then she looked hesitant…apologetic even.

"I guess now is not the time to tell you that I wanted to halt all…um…extra-curricular activities a month before the wedding so that our wedding night will be extra special too…is it?"

"A month!" Daniel's heart dropped into his stomach and his chin practically hit the floor.

He noticed a slight smirk forming at the edge of her mouth and suddenly felt a huge wave of relief…clearly she was teasing him.

"You are unbelievable." He pushed her back against the cushions in the corner of the couch and pinned her there – she was laughing hysterically.

"Actually…I had you convinced for a second or two, so I must be somewhat believable." She teased him. "You should come over to my place tonight, for a change. You never stay there, I almost always stay here. Why is that, anyway?"

"Your bed is small." Daniel answered as if that explained everything.

"So… you practically sleep on top of me, how big does it need to be? We barely use half of your bed when I stay here." She said as she sat up.

"And your mattress is hard and the pillows aren't fluffy." He added.

"Oh my God…you are such a princess." She laughed.

"I'm not a _princess_…I just like to get a good night's sleep." He defended.

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him in amazement.

"What? What's with the look?" He asked.

"I'm just wondering who you think you're talking to, because I remember more than a few evenings when getting a good night's sleep was not your top priority." She smirked.

"When I'm actually trying to sleep I want to be able to." He smiled.

"Fine, have it your way. Stay here in your large, soft bed, with your 1500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets and fluffy pillows and get a good night's sleep…all by yourself."

He thought about that for a second. "Well…when you put it that way…maybe I will come over."

"You can bring your own pillow." She grinned.


	10. Chapter 10

**Countdown: 2 weeks  
**

Betty was stopping by Daniel's house late one Saturday morning - two weeks before the wedding - to drop off a couple of boxes of her things. It was a rare Friday evening that she didn't spend with Daniel lately but she'd worked extremely late to try and get ahead before she took two weeks off.

This morning she figured she might as well start moving some of the stuff she didn't use everyday over to his place and then they'd spend the day together doing some last minute planning and organizing.

She got out of the cab with the two boxes stacked awkwardly in her arms, walking slightly sideways so she could see around them. She precariously managed the front steps without incident. As she approached door she tried in vain to ring the doorbell with her baby finger but she couldn't get close enough because the top box was protruding out. She shifted around to try using the baby finger on the other hand but no such luck. _Note to self: put the larger box on the bottom next time._ She turned slightly further and attempted to use her elbow but the casing around the doorbell prevented her elbow from touching the button. Finally, at the risk of sounding annoyed, she pounded on the door with her foot. There was a fairly long pause so she pounded again.

Finally he came to the door. He was wearing his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and his hair was disheveled like he hadn't yet combed it. He looked exhausted too, almost like he hadn't slept. He wasn't expecting her so when he opened the door, naturally he was surprised. What Betty hadn't anticipated was the look of fear and dread on his face as well.

"Betty! Hey! I…uh…wasn't expecting you." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"No…I just thought I'd bring a few things over." She said around the load of boxes. "You're not dressed yet?"

"No…I've…uh…been a little busy." He looked quickly over his shoulder back into the house and rubbed his neck again.

Strange…he wasn't offering to take a box or even telling her to come in. He was acting weird…nervous…definitely like he was hiding something. She felt an uneasy sensation in almost every cell in her body and her stomach flipped with anxiety.

"So…should I just leave them out here then?" She asked sarcastically expecting him to take the hint.

"Oh…so you're on your way then?" Daniel asked, and she could swear he was looking almost hopeful about it.

That did it - he was definitely hiding something.

"No, I'm not on my way!" She was confused. "I'm expecting you to take a box, invite me in…I don't know, be polite maybe."

"Uh…the place is…uh…kind of a mess right now." He still stood in the way.

Betty was starting to feel a little sick and her imagination was running away with her. What on earth was he hiding in there?

"Are you freakin' kidding me? We're getting married in two weeks and you're suddenly worried about the state of your house around me?" Her tone clearly indicated she wasn't buying what he was trying to sell.

"Oh…right. I guess that is a little stupid." He still didn't move.

"So…do I seriously have to **ask** you if I can come in with these?" She was astounded.

She walked toward him but he didn't move out of the way until she was practically on top of him. He took the top box and then stepped to the side so she could go past.

"Betty, I can explain..." He said from behind her as she stopped and stared at the sight in front of her.

She placed the box she was carrying on the kitchen table. His house was in complete disarray…drawers in the kitchen were open with the contents splayed across the counter; his normally tidy desk in the corner was a shambles; even couch cushions were overturned. This was what he was hiding for some reason.

"Oh my God…what happened here?" Betty automatically responded.

He had placed the other box down on the floor by the door and was rubbing the back of his neck nervously again but he didn't answer. He looked desperate - a look she hadn't seen on his face in quite a long time – like he was trying to come up with some explanation…maybe not the truth.

"Daniel…?" She looked at him pointedly.

"Ok, ok…Betty, promise me you won't freak out." He said.

"I'm not liking the way this is starting." She confessed.

He took a deep breath and then dove in. "I can't find the rings."

Betty looked at him stunned for a minute. Did she just hear him correctly?

"Betty? Are you alright? I said I can't find the rings." He repeated.

"Yeah…I heard you." Her expression and tone were flat.

"Are you sure you heard me correctly because you're not really reacting the way I expected you to react when I told you I misplaced our wedding rings. I kind of expected…uh…some yelling, some flailing arms….I don't know. Not this."

"Yeah…I heard you." She repeated still somewhat stunned.

"Could you please say something else, or at least with a different intonation, 'cause you're kind of freaking me out?" He said.

She took a deep breath and looked at him, puzzled. "Really? Flailing arms?"

He shrugged and shook his head.

She got down to business. "So we look for them, that's all. They have to be around here somewhere, right? Are they still in the box from the jeweler?"

She immediately started going to different drawers in a rather futile attempt to search. They had picked them up about two months ago and after trying them on to make sure they were sized right, he was going to put them somewhere safe, but she had no clue where that might be.

"Yeah. But Betty, I've been looking for them for two days and I still can't find them." Daniel looked apologetic.

"Daniel…your place isn't that big. Surely we can find them if we work together."

She was trying to remain positive but they'd had them custom made and they matched, and they'd put quite a bit of thought into the design. It would be more than a little disappointing if they had to run out and get new ones especially since they didn't have time to have new ones made so they would just have to go with something they found.

But ultimately that wasn't the end of the world, and she might have left her feelings at disappointed if it weren't for that other thing…that nagging, stupid part of her that her logical brain always ignored. The part of her - as small and childish as it was - that sometimes believed in crazy superstitions and weird premonitions, was rearing its ugly, illogical head wondering if it was some kind of sign that the rings had gone missing only two weeks before the wedding. She pushed it aside.

"Did you try to think back to where you might have put them?" She asked.

"Of course I did, I'm not an idiot." He was defensive and irritable.

"Sor-ry." She held up her hands.

He sighed again, combing his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry Betty. It's just…I'm so angry with myself and I feel like an idiot. I'm positive I put them somewhere for safe keeping…I just can't remember where."

She nodded; she understood that, despite how crazy it sounded. And she knew Daniel…the more flustered he got the less likely he would be to remember.

"How about your bedroom?" She asked wandering down the hall.

His room looked worse than the kitchen and living area. Apparently he'd long ago discarded the calm method of searching one drawer, then putting things neatly back before searching another one. It looked like someone had broken in and ransacked it. She was overwhelmed at the sight of it so as soon as he entered behind her she turned to him.

"Look…it doesn't make sense for us to look in the same place. I'll take the kitchen and living room and leave you to continue what you were doing in here and then one of us can check the spare room." She suggested.

He nodded.

Almost two hours later, Betty was tired and discouraged. She'd finished with the kitchen and living room and had made her way to the spare room. She had put the place back together in the process of her searching. No point leaving a mess.

Unfortunately, she hadn't found a trace of the rings. Well, that's not completely true…she found the receipt stuck haphazardly in the "catch all" drawer in the kitchen - apparently the man still needed someone to help organize him a little. She sighed as that stupid nagging part of her asked if it was going to be her or if the universe was trying to tell her something…she wanted to tell it to shut up.

She wandered back into his bedroom where he'd been working non-stop. He'd been tidying in his searching process as well, because the room looked considerably neater.

"Any luck?" She asked as she entered the bedroom although she was certain she knew the answer because she hadn't heard any hollers of delight coming out of here.

He poked his head out of the walk-in closet where, apparently, he was in the process of searching each of his gazillion designer suits because now there was a large stack of them on the side of the bed closest to the closet. She guessed he was putting them there after he finished checking the pockets.

"Not yet." He had a look of steely determination on his face.

He'd thrown on a pair of jeans and a sweater and that, combined with his purposeful expression, made him look a little less downcast than he did when she first saw him today.

She sighed and sat on the edge of his bed, worn out and disappointed. She wasn't seriously thinking this was some kind of sign, was she? That wasn't really like her; in her head she knew that would be utterly ridiculous, and yet she couldn't shake this awful feeling. How weird was it that after hours of searching in his fairly small townhouse they still couldn't find them? It was bizarre and kind of creepy – like they'd disappeared into thin air. He'd gone back into the closet so she was basically asking the air when she said it.

"Do you believe in signs?"

He poked his head out again and had a questioning look until he saw her face. The dramatic change of his expressions, as it registered in his brain what she was really asking – from quizzical, to awareness, to utter panic - was comical, and might have been amusing if Betty had felt it at all possible to be amused at that moment.

"Noooo! No…no…no,no,no." He jumped over a box on the floor and hopped over a pair of his shoes, each "no" coinciding with a stride as his quickly made his way over to where she was sitting and knelt on the floor in front of her. "Signs are stupid."

He took both of her hands in his.

"This is not a sign…or an omen…or anything like that. This is just another one of my brainless screw ups. Which, really - in comparison to some of the other ones - is not that bad." He had a hopeful look on his face.

She smiled down at him and he continued, very seriously.

"Listen Betty…I want to marry you. I don't care what rings we use and I really hope you don't either. It's not about the rings…it's not about signs…it's not about any of that. It's about us. I love you, and we belong together - we're a team. For better or for worse, right? This is just a little of the "for worse" part. And considering how much the rings cost, maybe a little of the "for poorer" part too." He tried to joke.

He was thoughtful for a moment before he stood up to sit on the bed beside her and added "Remind me to tell the priest to add "in stupid or in smart" just so my ass is covered."

He was so serious as he said it and he looked so dejected that Betty had to chuckle, and then she started to laugh. He was adorable, and sweet, and funny. Forget the universe and whatever it might or might not be trying to tell her, there was no way she wasn't marrying this man. She flopped back on the bed as her laughing subsided.

"They're just rings…stupid gold bands. There is nothing mystical or magical about them. Where are we…Middle Earth? We'll just get other ones." She said up to the ceiling, realizing how utterly ridiculous and irrational she was being only a few seconds ago.

He exhaled audibly, with obvious relief, and flopped back too. "And then we'll find them when we come home two or three weeks after the wedding." He said.

She nodded and added to his thought. "Probably when I move in and we're making space for my stuff. I'm wondering how that's going to happen though, as I look at your collection of clothes. I guess you'll have to get rid of some."

He gasped. "Bite your tongue. There's a closet in the spare room."

"For my stuff or for some of your extra suits?" She asked with a smile.

"That depends." He retorted as he rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow to look at her.

"On what?" She asked.

"On how relaxed I feel after the honeymoon. If I'm relaxed I'll have lots of energy to move some of my clothes over."

"If you're truly relaxed, you won't have any energy left at all." She smirked.

He smiled. "I like the sound of that. So maybe we'd better move them today."

"Speaking of the honeymoon…where are we going?" She asked. "You haven't told me what I need to pack." Daniel had booked it and was keeping it a secret.

All of a sudden he got a strange look on his face and he sat up.

"Pack..." He repeated as he stood up quickly and rushed to the closet in the spare room; Betty followed him out of curiosity.

He pulled out a large suitcase and unzipped the front pocket, pulling out the jeweler's box. A huge grin graced his face and Betty thought her expression probably mirrored his by the relief she was feeling.

"I packed them in the suitcase so there would be absolutely no chance I'd forget them here when we left for New York."

"Aww…see…it wasn't a brainless screw up - you were too smart for your own good." She teased. "Can I see them again?"

"Isn't that bad luck?" He asked.

"That's the groom seeing the bride in her wedding dress, dork. And I've had enough superstitious thinking for today." She grinned.


	11. Chapter 11

**Countdown: 1 week  
**

Betty and Daniel were waiting at Heathrow for their flight to New York. The airport was busy but not overly busy and although there were a number of people waiting at the gate Daniel figured the flight probably wasn't even full.

Betty was quietly looking out the window. Daniel was fidgety. He pulled out his phone to check if he'd missed any messages…nope; he put it in his pocket. He pulled out his book and tried to read…that wasn't going to happen he realized, as his mind drifted after only reading a couple of sentences; he put it back in his carry-on. He flipped through the carry-on to make sure he had everything: passport…check, boarding pass…check. He pulled out his phone and checked for messages again. He wasn't expecting any, but at least it was something to do. Even as he tried to sit still in the uncomfortable chairs his knee kept bopping. The waiting was driving him crazy. An older woman sitting in the row perpendicular to them was doing a crossword or something and kept looking up at him – probably because he was so obviously restless – maybe it was making her nervous. It was times like this he wished they hadn't had to get rid of the private jet when times had been difficult a few years ago. He was excited, anxious and nervous all rolled into one - not about the flight but about the entire week ahead.

First, there were still some last minute things to do. For example, his mother had just gotten a copy of the seating plan for the reception and she'd made a comment or two over the phone about how she needed to talk to him about it. That alone filled him with dread. He didn't want to spend hours making last minute changes because of stupid family politics, but he knew he was probably going to have to.

And then there was the fact that Bobby and Becks wanted to take him out. That shouldn't have been a concern especially since he'd requested that they not get too crazy. But he'd heard some stories about Bobby's stag and Becks hadn't changed one iota in five years, so the fact was, he wasn't sure his idea of "not too crazy" was the same as theirs and that made him a little nervous. He didn't want to accidentally end up some place Betty would disapprove of and then she'd give him that disappointed look of hers and lecture him about it for days after.

He also had that uncomfortable feeling of forgetting something. He was pretty sure he hadn't because Betty had made lists and he'd checked and double checked his suitcases and carry-on but still the feeling lingered.

He was extremely excited about the actual wedding day. A huge party celebrating something he'd been waiting months for…what wasn't to be excited about? Plus he'd get to see people he hadn't seen for months.

But the thing that was causing most of the fidgeting was the fact that Betty wasn't. She was always full of energy and excitement – especially when they went back to New York - but here they sat waiting for their plane only one week before their wedding and she was calm, pensive, almost serene. It was freaky…and it worried him a little. Was she having doubts and second thoughts?

Finally he couldn't stand it anymore and he had to say something.

"What's going on?" He asked her.

She turned to him questioningly. "Hmm?"

"With you…what's going on with you?" Daniel asked. "You were completely silent the entire cab ride and now you're calmly sitting here looking out the window while we wait for the plane."

"What should I be doing? Fidgeting like you?" She smiled; obviously she'd noticed.

"Yeah…actually." He was blunt.

"And how would that help?" She calmly asked.

He paused for a second thinking about it. "Well it wouldn't _help_ but at least I'd know you were here." He answered.

"I'm here, Daniel." She put her hand on his forearm and smiled at him.

"Did you take something?" He asked.

"What?" She looked confused.

"You know…medication or something. You are unusually calm considering we're going to New York…**to get married**!"

She chuckled and shook her head. "No, I didn't take anything. We've be planning this for months…why are you freaking out now?"

"Why aren't you?" He threw it back at her.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just feel…peaceful about it."

Ok…that sounded kind of nice. He relaxed a little, but just a little.

"So that explains why you're not anxious but what about excited - where's the excitement?"

She smiled again. "I'm excited. Would you calm down?"

He took a deep breath. "Are you having second thoughts?"

She looked concerned. "Of course not. Are you?"

"No. But you're just so distant and quiet. You're not your usual energetic self like when we usually fly back to New York." He said.

"What do you mean by that? What am I usually like when we fly back to New York?" She asked.

"You know…" He responded impatiently not expecting he really needed to answer.

She raised her eyebrows questioningly. "No…tell me."

"Hyper, frenzied, strung-out…like you've had too many lattes." He answered, as if it was obvious.

She looked offended and he realized, too late, that it was probably a thought that should never have made it out of his mouth.

"Maybe I get a little excited but I don't act like I've had too many lattes."

"Anyway…" He desperately wanted to change the subject. "Why are you so quiet?"

She shrugged. "I'm just thinking. Do you know the next time we're in this airport we'll be married?"

"Uh…yeah." Daniel didn't understand what she was getting at.

"I'll be someone's wife. It's weird…that's all." She looked up out the window reflectively again.

"Good weird or bad weird?" Daniel had to ask.

She turned to him and cocked her head to the side recognizing his insecurity. "Good weird…don't worry."

She took his hand in one of hers and sighed. "It's funny to be here…at this point in my life. When I was a little girl I wondered if I'd ever get married and have a family…" She turned quickly and looked up at him. "not that I'm quite ready to have a family…yet."

He smiled and squeezed her hand.

"This all seemed so distant and far away back then. And now here we are, flying back to New York and within a week we'll be married. It just makes life seem so short…you know?"

He nodded.

"Anyway," She continued. "they won't call us for boarding for at least another half an hour so why don't you go for a walk and grab something at the café down the terminal a little, to kill some time. Just don't get a coffee unless it's decaf…you're a little jumpy." She grinned.

"Hmph…a little…" The older lady across the way mumbled.

Daniel looked at her and then back to Betty and Betty started to laugh.

"You don't want to come?" He asked.

"No…I'm happy to just sit here and think." She said.

"Well, don't think too hard or you might start to realize what a mistake you're making." He joked.

"Go…just go." She pushed him.

* * *

Daniel walked away and Betty smiled at the older lady with the crossword. The lady held her puzzle book up to block her view and crossed her legs, turning away.

Betty grabbed her novel out of her carry-on. Less than half a page in and she was interrupted by a voice that was only vaguely familiar saying her name.

"Betty? Betty Suarez…is that you?"

She looked up to see Sophia Reyes as glamorous and gorgeous as ever. She hadn't seen Sophia for five years – since she'd resigned from MYW as a matter of fact. At that point, she'd lost all respect for Sophia because of what she'd done to Daniel and when she had confronted Sophia, she hadn't minced any words about why she couldn't stay and keep working for her. She couldn't remember the exact conversation but she did remember the emotion behind it and the feeling of betrayal. She knew she accused her of manipulating her, and she basically called her a fake in the course of it too, so it was more than a little awkward running into her.

Sophia looked like she hadn't changed at all and Betty was desperately looking for any sign of change - tiny crows feet, a little weight gain…anything. She was dressed in an above the knee black skirt with a grey blouse topped with a red jacket. The epitome of glamour and professionalism rolled into one – and it was only seven thirty in the morning. Unfortunately Sophia probably looked better than she had five years ago, if that was even possible.

"Sophia. Wow…look at you. You haven't changed a bit." She stood up to greet her politely.

"You certainly have…I almost didn't recognize you." Sophia said.

"Oh…" Betty looked down at her outfit self-consciously suddenly wishing she had put on something a little nicer than her yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt for the flight. "Well, just some superficial changes."

"Nonsense…you look terrific." Sophia argued and Betty wondered if that was an intentional insult of her past appearance or not.

"What are you doing here?" Betty asked her politely.

Betty had heard that Sophia had left MYW a couple of years ago…something about an opportunity in California.

"I'm actually on my way home. I was covering a Summit in Belgium and this is my connection back to New York before I fly to L.A. I'm living in California now."

"I heard." Betty said. "A new magazine?"

"No…actually I'm on television now."

Of course she was – Betty sighed inwardly.

"It's only an anchor position at a local station but it's good exposure." Sophia said.

Betty nodded.

"And you? What are you doing here?" Sophia asked.

"I'm running a small magazine." Betty said, immediately wondering why she'd added the adjective "small". What was it about Sophia that made Betty feel so insignificant? "But I'm flying back to New York for…uh…a couple of weeks."

It felt odd to mention the wedding which would lead to a dozen questions. Not that Sophia wasn't going to find out within minutes that Betty was with Daniel because apparently fate had a good sense of humour and the woman was on their flight.

"Your own magazine…good for you Betty. I knew that you just needed to get out of Mode and away from being Daniel Meade's assistant, and you'd find your own feet."

"Uh…yeah." Betty said evasively.

From Betty's vantage point she had a clear view over Sophia's shoulder down the corridor and she could see Daniel approaching – two cups of coffee in hand – completely oblivious to the web he was walking into. She felt anxious for him. He hadn't seen Sophia for as long as Betty had and as awkward as it was for Betty, it would be ten times worse for Daniel.

"You're not alone?" Sophia interrupted Betty's thoughts as she indicated Daniel's carry-on sitting beside her own on the floor.

"Um…no." Betty shook her head realizing now there was no escaping this uncomfortable situation.

She looked back over Sophia's shoulder but didn't see Daniel anymore. That was odd, but he was fairly far away when she first spotted him so maybe he'd ducked into another shop?

"Oh my goodness…Betty Suarez…you are engaged." Sophia said it as if it would be news to Betty. She noticed the ring and she grabbed Betty's left hand and looked at it. "Mmm…lovely. Someone has a good job."

Betty pulled her hand back uncomfortably. "Yeah…you could say that."

She looked back down the corridor but there was still no sign of him. She subtly glanced a little to the right, toward the book store directly across from the gate. Was that a coffee cup? Yes, she saw the edge of a coffee cup sticking out from behind the magazine rack. It could be anyone…it didn't have to be him. Then she saw the corner of his head and one eye, peeking around the edge. She had to smile. Not only was it him, he wasn't looking at the magazines, he was hiding out. Obviously he saw Sophia standing here and he'd opted for the avoidance approach. She realized that probably shouldn't have caught her by surprise. It was a little comforting to see that at least a part of Daniel hadn't really changed that much. It was too bad that the hiding was all for naught because he was going to have to face his demons eventually anyway…or maybe demoness was more appropriate.

Sophia interrupted her thoughts again. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I really need to make a quick pit stop before boarding. But I look forward to meeting this fiancé of yours when I get back."

Betty just nodded.

Sophia had no sooner turned the corner into the Ladies' room when Daniel made his appearance.

"Man…that was close. Sorry to leave you to fend for yourself, I just did not want to see her today…or any day, actually." He handed her a coffee.

Betty scrunched her nose and said regretfully "She's on our flight."

She sat down. Daniel looked stunned for a second and then a slow grin spread across his face and he shook his head before he took a sip of his coffee.

"Good one - you almost had me." He sat down too.

"No, Daniel…I'm serious. She's on our flight." Betty was firm.

Daniel looked stunned again, and then he whimpered a little. Finally he said "Really?"

Betty nodded sympathetically. "But it doesn't really matter…right? Water under the bridge and all that. I mean…you've been married once…you're getting married again."

"Oh my God…I sound like a big serial proposer. You know…the guy that asks every woman he meets to marry him."

"No…I don't think I've heard of that guy." Betty said, wanting to laugh but realizing that he was serious.

"I couldn't really tell…does she look the same?" Daniel asked.

"Exactly…maybe better." Betty was honest.

Daniel sighed.

"But so do you." She smiled at him. "And you **are** better now then you were back then – kinder, sweeter."

Daniel smiled at her.

"Did you tell her about us?" He asked.

"No. But it's only a matter of time…probably seconds now. Only seconds and then your glamorous, gorgeous ex-fiancé will know about your new fiancé." Betty sighed and took a large swig of coffee almost as comfort.

"Don't do that." Daniel put his hand on her knee.

"What?"

"That insecure thing you're doing. Believe me Betty, you are a thousand times the woman Sophia Reyes is…in all ways." He smiled at her.

She forced a smile. "How come I can't do the insecure thing but you can?" She accused him.

"I'm not insecure."

Betty gave him a look.

"Really, I'm not. My life is great. I have a beautiful soon-to-be-wife that I love, and a great job that I love." He smiled.

"You sure didn't sound that way a minute ago…all secure in who you've become."

"It's just running into an ex. You know what it's like?"

She nodded.

"And with this ex it's particularly awkward…you know…because of the televised humiliation and all." He added.

Betty recognized how vulnerable he felt remembering it so she grabbed his free hand. "Sophia was stupid. She has no idea what she gave up. But if it's any consolation…I'm really glad she did." She smiled and leaned over, giving him a gentle kiss.

"Daniel Meade!" Betty heard from behind her.

They looked up to see a bewildered Sophia looking at them. She didn't speak for a few seconds.

"Betty…I'm assuming this is…uh…your fiancé? Either that or you've got some explaining to do to someone." Sophia said when she finally found her voice.

"Yeah." Betty looked apologetic. "It just felt weird to bring it up."

Sophia nodded. "Well, I can understand why." She paused. "I have to say: I did not see this coming."

Daniel stood up. "Sophia…it's…um…nice to see you." He said politely but didn't extend his hand or anything.

"You don't have to pretend Daniel. I'm well aware how awkward this is for all of us. I guess I should offer you my congratulations on your engagement."

"Uh…yeah. Actually we've been engaged a while now, the wedding is Saturday." Daniel answered.

"Saturday! Oh." She looked like she was processing it. "So that's why you're flying back to New York." She said to Betty.

Betty nodded.

"So Betty tells me she's running a magazine." Sophia said to Daniel.

"Yeah." He smiled at Betty. "It's a fantastic publication, thanks to her." He put his hand on her shoulder.

"And you? What are you doing in London?" Sophia asked him.

"I'm working for an advertising firm." Daniel answered.

"Advertising?" Sophia seemed confused.

"Yeah…you know…print ads, radio ads, television ads." Daniel explained unnecessarily.

"I know what advertising agencies do, Daniel. I'm just a little surprised. It seems a step down that's all."

Betty felt the need to interject. "Daniel wanted to get away from Mode and Meade. To branch out and see was he could do on his own."

Sophia nodded but still looked confused and not that impressed. "So you came to London to do advertising?"

"Actually, I came to London to be with Betty." He corrected her. "I could do advertising anywhere."

Sophia started to look like she finally understood. "You two seem very happy." She commented politely.

"Thanks…we are." Betty smiled at Daniel.

"And it seems like you have changed quite a lot Daniel – no longer the superficial, self absorbed playboy you once were – seeing as you're engaged to Betty and all."

Betty ignored the insult to herself, for the most part, because she wasn't sure if it was an insult or not. But she couldn't ignore the comments about Daniel despite the truth in them, mainly because they came from Sophia…talk about nerve.

"You know what, Sophia? There was always a lot more to Daniel than you saw…probably because you were too busy with your own selfish schemes and opportunistic ladder climbing you didn't have your eyes open." She said trying to stay calm. "And frankly, I'm glad that you couldn't see it because he is far too good for you and it would have been a colossal shame if he'd been saddled with you for the rest of his life."

Sophia looked shocked and wounded. Daniel just looked shocked. He put his hand on Betty's shoulder to try and calm her down but she was finished – she'd said all that she'd wanted to.

Thankfully, as if on cue, the voice on the loudspeaker called for boarding rows in first class.

"I guess that's us." Daniel said to Betty who was still looking defiantly at Sophia. "You too?" He asked Sophia.

"No…I'm in business class." She commented and Daniel nodded.

Betty stood up and grabbed her carry-on.

"Nice to see you again." Daniel said politely. "Right Betty?" He was obviously encouraging some civility.

"Um…yeah." Betty nodded awkwardly and Sophia returned the nod.

As they walk toward the desk Daniel leaned down and whispered "Aren't you glad I convinced you to upgrade this time?"

Betty smiled feebly, still a little shaken. She never took any pleasure in confrontation like that and she really hated being rude even if Sophia did deserve it. He elbowed her playfully as he handed their I.D and boarding passes to the attendant.

"Come on…you're not going to let that take the excitement out of this trip, are you?"

She smiled more sincerely that time. "No I guess not."

The walked onto the plane and Betty took her seat; Daniel stuffed their jackets in the overhead bin and then sat down with her.

"God, you're hot when you're feisty…and even hotter when you're defending me like that." He grinned. "I have to admit, I'm a little turned on right now."

"Daniel…" Betty blushed.

"It's true. I keep wondering if there's any way I can convince you to sneak into the bathroom with me once we're in the air."

She looked at him trying to figure out if he was joking or not. Given it was Daniel…probably not.

He continued. "And it's partly the fact that I realize how lucky I am. I could have ended up with her…I mean if it hadn't all been fake on her part and everything. And then I would never be here right now, with you. I am so incredibly lucky to have you – Sophia cannot hold a candle to you."

Betty looked at him. "Right…I can see that – what with that fantastic body, and perfect face of hers." Betty said sarcastically.

"I'm serious. You are beautiful and adorable and wow…so hot. But there is so much more to you than that too."

"Is it the huge over-sized sweatshirt that used to be yours, the messy pony tail or the lack of make-up?" Betty asked, still not convinced.

"It's just you…all of you." He said seriously taking her hand and the look he gave her made her believe him.

She looked down at the floor bashfully. It's amazing that they'd been together well over a year now but sometimes the way he looked at her was so intense she still had to look away.

"Now…" He leaned closer, a mischievous grin on his face. "…about that bathroom…"


	12. Chapter 12

**Later in New York that same day…**

Betty and Daniel had arrived in New York and were sitting in the living room of the Suarez house catching up with Ignacio, Justin, Hilda and Bobby. They were exhausted from the flight but Betty really wanted to spend some time with her family.

Betty's phone rang and she grabbed it out of her purse. The caller ID said it was Marc. She hadn't spoken to him since telling him about the "change" in the bridesmaids' dresses. She hadn't intended to keep him in the dark but life became really busy and she ended up forgetting for a while. And then she realized that – given that Amanda was one of her bridesmaids and had to have her dress made –he would eventually find out the truth anyway so she didn't bother.

"It's Marc." She said offhandedly and Daniel raised his eyebrows. "I'm going to take it."

She ducked out of the room and into the kitchen.

"Touché, Suarez." He said as soon as she answered the phone.

"Marc. I haven't heard from you in a while." She couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice despite her best attempt.

"Yeah, well…I went on the down low for a little after your wedding plans started to implode." He said.

"Aw…come on Marc…the dress isn't that bad." Betty joked. "And I would like to think Mode's Fashion Editor would be able to take some credit for it."

"Ha! Good one." Marc said sarcastically. "Well you could hardly blame me for believing that you'd actually choose something as hideous as that given your fashion history."

Betty ignored him and then she said more seriously. "You know Marc, it kind of took me be surprise - I thought the bickering, scheming, and insulting had ended the day I left Mode."

"Why would you think that?" Marc asked.

"Oh I don't know, maybe because I was in a different country and you didn't have me around to use as a punching bag anymore."

"Punching bag? That's a little over dramatic don't you think, Betty? This is just what we do, you and I - this mental jousting. It's just usually I'm the only one who's armed." He changed the subject. "I can't believe that in just a few days you are going to be a Meade."

"Believe it." Betty couldn't help grinning even though he couldn't see her.

He exaggerated a sigh. "What has happened to the cosmos? I swear, everything that is known to be true is a complete lie. And the unfairness of the universe has recently been proved. Just think, in a little less than a week you'll be able to buy all the revolting polyester blend fabrics and grotesque sweater vests your little heart desires."

"It's not about the money, Marc." Betty said ignoring the comments about the clothes.

He sighed again. "I know…and that's what makes it worse. Daniel Meade was born to end up with someone who could at least appreciate him for his millions - you couldn't care less. He could be some pauper on the street for all you notice his money. Where is the fairness in that?"

Betty didn't answer – she figured he was just venting.

He continued along a different train of thought. "You must be the luckiest person on earth. What is it with you anyway – fairy dust and magical unicorns? Do you get everything you ever wish for?"

She sighed contentedly. "Yeah…I guess I kind of do."

"I wasn't really asking…it was rhetorical."

"Maybe good things do happen to good people Marc – especially when you work hard and are kind. I've always thought so."

"Spare me the philosophy lesson Betty." Marc said snidely.

"Why did you call Marc?" Betty didn't want to waste her time if he was going to be snide.

He paused for a second before answering. "I know you're going to be exceptionally busy over the next few days, and I while I had the chance I just wanted to say that despite our differences there's always been a mutual respect—"

"Respect!" Betty was shocked and wanted to laugh but thought that might be little rude.

"Yes, respect…of sorts." Marc said. "Maybe I didn't always respect your fashion sense, or your taste, or your writing ability, or your work ethic—"

"Your point, Marc." Betty cut him off.

There was another pause before he added sincerely and with what Betty sensed was a little emotion in his voice. "I hope you and Daniel will be very…happy."

Betty bit her lip to hold back some or her own emotion.

He continued. "And I wanted to add that although it may have seemed like I was taking over the wedding for selfish reasons - and it may have started that way - by the end, I just wanted to make sure the two of you had a beautiful wedding that you would always look back on fondly."

"Really?" Betty was increasingly moved.

"Oh, who am I kidding…of course not. I just didn't want the wedding to reflect badly on me." He answered.

Betty couldn't help but smile anyway.

"Well...thank you, Marc…for the nice wishes and…uh…the truth, I guess."

"Yeah…well…anyway, I should probably get going. I do have a life to get back to. I can't waste the entire evening listening to your jabber blabber." He said.

"Good-bye Marc." Betty said as she rolled her eyes.

Just after Betty hung up the phone, Daniel poked his head in the kitchen.

"Everything ok?" He asked with hesitation.

"Yeah, surprisingly. Marc just said he hopes we'll have a happy life." Betty grinned with a little astonishment on her face as she held up her phone. "And he was sincere too…no joke, no snide comment…well, in that part of the conversation at least."

"Will wonders never cease?" Daniel shook his head.

He walked over and pulled her into a hug.

"I'm almost positive we will." He said looking down at her.

"We will what?…cease?" Betty was confused.

"No…" He laughed and then he clarified. "…have a happy life."

"Oh."

"Can you believe it's less than a week away?" Daniel said excitedly.

"I know. I can't wait." Betty grinned back.

"Less than a week and you'll be legally stuck with me forever." He was grinning like such a little boy.

"You make that sound like a bad thing." Betty was amused. "I can't think of anything I'd like better than to be legally stuck with you."

"I just keep thinking you'll come to your senses before the week is out."

She tilted her head. "Oh my God…you're not even joking, are you?"

He was still grinning but he shrugged.

She put her hand on his cheek and said seriously. "Daniel…I am so incredibly lucky. The man you are…so loving, so faithful, so sweet. It is not possible to love you more than I do." She tried not to get emotional but that was impossible so the tears welled up in her eyes. "I guess I don't tell you or show you enough."

"You tell me lots." He smiled. "But I'm all for you showing me more." He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

She shook her head with a smile on her face. And then she stood up on her tiptoes her hands around his neck pulling him down gently for a kiss. He deepened it and slowly backed her up until she was leaning against the counter around the corner, out of sight of the living room. He lifted her up so she was sitting on it.

"Um…Daniel?" She was dazed and a little out of breath

"Hmm?" He gazed at her.

"We're in my father's kitchen." She said.

"Yes, we are…" He kissed her neck.

"And my entire family is just in the next room."

"Mmm hmm." He kissed the other side of her neck and then looked at her again.

"You have that look." She said softly.

"What look?" He asked.

"You know…your look."

"I have a look?" He smiled, amused by that.

"Oh yes…you definitely have a look." She whispered with a nod, feeling her pulse quicken even as he was gazing at her with it now.

He reached up and kissed her deepening it again. Betty felt it all over. She ran her fingers through his hair.

"Are you freakin' kidding me?" Hilda said from the doorway.

They broke the kiss quickly and Betty slid down off of the counter. Hilda walked over to them and started to scold.

"What are you two - animals? You've been in the country all of two hours. You can't keep your hands off each other for a couple of days, or at least 'til you're **ALONE**?" She smacked Daniel on the shoulder. "And this is the kitchen – people eat in here. What if I'd been Papi, huh, then what?"

"Then I'm guessing that swat might have hurt a little bit more." Daniel joked.

"It was just a kiss, Hilda." Betty defended, her face flaming.

"Just a kiss…right. I know kisses like that and they lead to things…like Justin. And you…" She directed the next part at Daniel, her finger wagging in his face. "You two are going to be separated a little this week because of all the last minute wedding stuff. So I would suggest you try to keep it in your pants until the wedding night, because nobody wants to walk in on the two of you trying to get some action in the kitchen, or the living room, or anywhere for that matter, just because you haven't had enough "alone time" lately. There is an impressionable teenager around…and a father with a heart condition."

Betty was a little mortified. "Nobody was trying to get any action Hilda…right Daniel?"

He looked unsure and sheepish and just shrugged. Hilda gave her an "I told you so" look and then turned to leave.

"Everything's fine…they're just…uh…having a discussion." She said to the general public as she walked out through the dining room into the living room.

Betty turned to Daniel and gave him a swat.

"Enough with the swats already." He said.

"I could have used some backup there." She said.

"What…and lie to your sister? No offense but I'd rather face your wrath than Hilda's."

"I'm not even sure which part of that statement to tackle first." Betty admitted before jumping in. "First of all, there wasn't going to be any "action". In case you haven't noticed we're in the kitchen with my entire family in the next room…and there isn't even a DOOR." She gestured to the doorway and looked at him in disbelief.

"And secondly…I can't believe you just said that about my wrath."

"Are you kidding? That can't be a surprise to you. I might hate when we fight but Hilda's got those claws…and something tells me she wouldn't be afraid to use them."

Betty couldn't argue with that.

"We should go back in there." Betty said as she started walking to the living room.

Daniel grabbed her hand.

"Hey…" He pulled her back against him and looked really serious. "Do you realize this might be one of the last moments of "alone time" we have before the wedding?"

"Sorry Casanova but nothing's going to happen right now." She said to him.

"That's not what I meant." He grinned. "I just meant that there's something I want to say."

He inhaled and tucked a wayward hair behind her ear.

"Betty, I love you…and I am so happy right now. I can't believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you." He sighed. "A part of me feels like such an idiot that I didn't realize sooner how amazing you are."

She tilted her head and smiled. "I think I'm the lucky one, actually. And you know…we weren't ready for each other any sooner."

He looked puzzled so she clarified.

"There was such a huge gap between the people we were back when we first met. You were so needy, selfish and self-absorbed; I was so naïve, idealistic and judgmental. We both needed to grow and change a little…or maybe a lot. And what we have never would have happened if we hadn't gone through all the stuff we went through together…as friends first." She smiled.

He lifted her chin up and leaned down to give her a warm, meaningful kiss.

"Enough already." Hilda was back in the doorway. "As cute as all this mushy lovebird crap is…you have your whole lives to do that. Come and visit with your family who haven't seen you for months."

Daniel smiled at Betty and took her hand as they walked into the living room.


End file.
